Slowly Searching
by scratchtheplans
Summary: Xanthe was only a week away from wedding someone she didn't love when Tristan walked into her life. Sometimes we meet people that alter everything we thought we knew. For them, it came at the most disadvantageous time imaginable.
1. You're Not Alone

_It's just like him to wander off in the evergreen park_

_Slowly searching for any signs of the ones he used to love_

_He says he's got nothing left to live for_

_He says he's got nothing left_

_And this time I think you'll know_

_You're not alone_

_There is more too this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_You will live to tell_

_She's just like him_

_Spoiled rotten, confused by the lies she's been fed_

_And she's searching for no one but herself_

_Her eyes turn to green, and she seems to happy that she is here_

_And this time I think you'll know_

_You're not alone_

_There is more to this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_You will live to tell_

_You're not alone_

_There is more to this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_There is more to know_

_We're not alone_

_There is more to this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_You will live to tell_

_You're not alone_

_There is more to this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_You will live to tell_

_You're not alone_

_There is more to this, I know_

_You can make it out_

_You will live to tell_

_You are not alone_

_You're not, you're not_

_Alone_

_**-"You're Not Alone" by Saosin**_

_"Sometimes I dance, alone, to music no one else can hear but me. When I dance, I feel the beat of the earth's own heart rise through my feet and legs, through my loins and belly into my chest, until my own heart beats in time with the earth's. Then I wonder if you feel it too, beneath that portion of the earth's crust where you stand, or walk, or lie, or dance too. Because always, when I am dancing, I am dancing with you."_

_**-**__**Sins of the House of Borgia**__** by Sarah Bower**_


	2. Crawling

**Hello everyone! Welcome to my second Tristan/OC story! I hope you're not as excited as I am because that would mean that you're not sitting still enough to read this!**

**So I know most of you are probably coming from "Your Tears Are Empty", my other Tristan story. If you're not, I have a few things to say before you read. If you are, just continue on your way. :D**

**So I have a few things you guys have to know about moi. I give you an amount of reviews at the end of each chapter, and that is the amount I'll wait for until I post the next chapter. It allows me to know who's reading, and if I'm doing well. I know some people hate that, but that's okay. It's just how I've always done things. Second, I normally update everyday, but I can't update until Tuesday because of a funeral, a party, and a protest. That's why this is even getting posted so early. The last thing is that if you want me to review one of your stories in return, I am willing to do so. Leave me the title in your review. Two conditions are that I have to be familiar with the fandom (other wise there's no point), and no slash. I'm not into it, sorry. :P (I've been accused of being homophobic because of it, so please don't start. I am not, and never have been, so just grow up. It's opinion, people). Fourth, I post pictures of who the characters look like on a Tumblr. Click the link on my profile for the story Tumblr, if you're interested.**

**The Saosin song in the first update helped me with the plot for this. The original idea for this actually came from watching Troy, with Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom. The relationship is inspired by Helen and Paris in that movie. (:**

**So this takes place a little over a year before the movie. The knights were commissioned to bring Marius's brother to his house to attend Alecto's wedding, so they met him before the movie. Don't worry, the plot will make sense. :P Rest assured; I know what I'm doing.**

**Now read on, loves!**

_"There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface. Consuming, confusing. This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending. Controlling. I can't seem to find myself again. My walls are closing in. Without a sense, of confidence, I'm convinced I'm under just too much pressure to take."-Linkin Park_

Freedom is something many men live their whole lives praying for, but in these times, it is not something one finds often. Although I am only twenty winters, I know this more than many men twice my age. There are fools who think that perhaps if we finish off one enemy, that will be it. If we can rid ourselves of them, it will be over and done with. They are wrong. There will always be someone to fight and something to claim.

My hands ran over the soft silk of the dress I wore, feeling how the material flowed through my fingers like solid water. It was familiar to me now, not as it had been months ago when I had first come to the estate of Marius Honorius. Back then I was a frightened girl who didn't understand what was happening. In the half-year since that time, I had matured. I had become a woman, and it was more sobering than I had expected when I was a child.

"Lady Xanthe?" I turned towards the sound of the quiet voice, and saw my personal maid, Marisa. I smiled at her, but she frowned at how it didn't reach my eyes. I didn't speak to her, just sat down dutifully at the vanity so she could put the pins in my hair to hold it back. She did so silently, understanding that this was not a moment I wished to speak.

I never knew my parents, but I did know the story of my birth. My mother was the daughter of a Roman senator who married a wealthy man with plenty of land to be handed down to an heir. She, however, fell in love with his stablehand, and they began an affair. I am the product of the passion she had for him. Her husband went through the whole pregnancy believing me to be his. He had no love for the woman he married, but he wanted a son to prepare for inheritance. Instead, he got me. The brunette man got a shock when he his equally dark-haired wife gave birth to a blonde baby. It was uncommon for Romans to have such light hair, and his mind immediately went to his fair-haired stablehand who he'd seen mooning over his wife on many occasions. In a fit of rage, he locked his wife in her room, and killed the man who'd dared to touch what was his.

My mother was devastated, but she was not a fool. She knew that he would come for me next, wanting all evidence of the travesty erased. She gave me to her midwife, making her promise to keep me safe. The old woman agreed, and left with me in the night. My mother's last act was to name me Xanthe, or "blonde". Rather unoriginal in my opinion, pointing out the fact that I was different more than it was already obviously so.

For years I traveled with the midwife like a nomad, never staying in one place for long. I was a stoic child from the start, having been told by the midwife many times that I was the product of sin. I knew I had no time to play around while always on the run from the wrath of my mother's husband. Word reached us when I was ten winters: my mother had fallen to disease and after all these years had still not given the man an heir. He died not long after, of apparent suicide. His lands were claimed quickly by the rebels that called themselves Woads.

It was only months after this discovery that the midwife and I were captured by a group of rowdy Roman slave traders. She tried to run, and was killed by an arrow. I felt nothing at her death, having never felt an attachment to her. It was hard to care for someone who disdained every breath you took.

For years I was passed from house to house, forging no attachments, and doing my duty silently. One of my fellow servants once said looking at me was like staring at a painting: flat and cold. I didn't take it as an insult because it was true. I abandoned most emotion long ago, if i had ever even had it.

Finally I ended up at this house, the one of Marius Honorius. I was originally purchased to be handmaid to Fulcinia, the lady of the house. When I was presented to her, her husband, and their son, I could feel the creepy eyes of Marius on the back of my neck as I kneeled. For the weeks I served them, his eyes followed me everywhere with a perverse smirk on his lips. His wife purposefully ignored this, and was exceptionally kind to me.

One day I was summoned to his sitting room, where he told me that I had caught the eye of his son Alecto. The boy was simply that: a boy, of about only fourteen winters. I remembered feeling my mouth twist down into a frown that Marius ignored. He'd stepped towards me, and said I was no longer a servant in this house. I was to marry Alecto, stand by his side as a beautiful and dutiful wife when he became the master of these lands, and pretend that I had never worked a day in my life. He'd reached out and touched my hair in a way that made my skin crawl. He'd been much too close, and I fought the urge to back away.

Everything after that passed in a blur, and I was barely aware of my surroundings. I was given quarters in the house, given my own maid, and clothes had been made for me. I'd been forced to wash in oils that made my skin smell much too perfumed, and servants who I'd once slept next to at night were forced to rub moisturizers on my hands to rid them of ages of callouses and traces of the work I'd been doing my whole life. I felt like I was falling most of the time, with no way at all of catching myself before I smashed into the ground. I had not uttered a word to show how reluctant I was to marry Alecto, and no one noticed except for Marisa. After all my years of forcing myself to detach from people, she'd broke down that wall. I thought of her as a friend, in a way. She was around the same age as me, but had worked in this house most of her life.

She finished with the pins in my hair so that half was pulled away from my face, and the rest hung in elegant curls that fell past my shoulders. She pried a few pieces from it, and curled them around her fingers to make ringlets that hung around my face delicately. She put both hands on my shoulders, and smiled at our reflections in the mirror.

"Xanthe, you must be the most beautiful girl in Rome," she said fondly, coaxing the smallest of smiles from me. "It is no wonder they took you from slavery."

The smile disappeared, and I looked away from the sight of myself in the mirror. The nice clothes, fine jewelry, and immaculate hair was like an accusation I was directing at myself. Once I had been where Marisa was, the servant of rich Roman women. I hoped I was much kinder to her than they'd been to me.

She must have sensed my thoughts, because she peered around my shoulder, forcing me to look in her eyes. "You deserve this," she said firmly. "More than any of the others."

"I do not," I responded. "I will never be what they think I am."

"They think you are a beautiful girl with the ability to be an incredible woman and fantastic wife. That is the truth." She squeezed my shoulder once more before leaving me to make the bed I'd vacated earlier that morning.

The sun was just reaching the highest point in the sky. I knew it probably wasn't acceptable for me to sleep so late, but I spent my nights unable to get comfortable on the thick feathered mattress when I was so used to stone cold ground.

"What am I to do today?" I asked. My voice rarely rose above a whisper. I was used to being unassuming.

"You must be fitted for your wedding dress," she said cheerfully. "After that you will meet with Master Marius, Lady Fulcinia, and Alecto to speak of the guest list for the ceremony."

I nodded slowly. "I think I may go down to the kitchens now," I told her. "I am hungry."

"Of course," she said waving me on. I stood, leaving the room quickly.

I spent more than half of my time in my bed chamber, just staring out the window at the serfs of the village as they worked. Part of me wished to be back in a place like that, just so I could feel like I belonged. I may have been born into a life like this, but I had never lived it. This was strange to me, and I did not feel comfortable walking around all done up all of the time.

I was almost to the kitchens when I heard voices. I slowed, hoping not to come across anyone. I heard my name uttered, and my ears perked up. The voices were coming from the laundry room, and I pressed my ear against the door.

"…not even pretty," one girl was saying. I knew her, a servant named Corinna. "I do not know why they chose her to wed Alecto."

"Is it not obvious to you?" her fellow asked. She was another servant, particularly unpleasant. Her name was Eurydice. "Once everything is said and done, it will not be Alecto's bed she warms at night."

Corinna gasped audibly. "What are you saying, Eurydice?"

"Everyone knows Marius has taken many women to his bed over the years," she replied haughtily. "Fulcinia and him barely glance at each other. Have you not thought of how convenient it would be for Marius to have a young, silent girl always in the house? You must have seen the way he looks at her, like a dog spotting a weak rabbit."

"She will be his daughter-in-law though," Corinna pointed out.

Eurydice scoffed. "It has never mattered before who is married. It will not start to do so now."

"Wouldn't it be easy if she stayed a servant? That way no one would believe her if she decided to say something."

"Oh, please, you ignorant twit. You know Marius. He is much too proud to bed any servant. He wants nobility and beauty. If he can't find it, he creates it."

My heart dropped to my toes, even though part of me was not surprised. I'd noticed the way he looked at me, always with that lustful glint in his black eyes. I had never imagined he would take me though, if I were to marry Alecto. Hearing these girls who'd lived here all of their life confirming my fate made me feel ill. I turned tail, and headed back to my room, not feeling hungry at all anymore.

/\/\/\/\/\

I did not tell Marisa what I had heard. The look in her eyes whenever she saw me told me that she already knew of my fate. I wondered how she would react the night I came back from Marius's chambers. Thinking of that, I didn't even know how I would react. I looked down from the balcony of my bedroom, and stared at the long drop to the stone pathway around the house. If I swung my legs over this railing, it would take only one little push to fall. I would die instantly once I hit that ground, and that would be it. What would it matter if I died? I had no one, and it would be no big devastation for anyone else. The only person I could think of that would mourn me would be Marisa, but that would not last long. She would recover.

Just as my foot left the stone floor beneath my feet, my door opened. Marisa was there, eying my odd position strangely.

"It is time for your dress fitting," she said. I nodded, turning around to follow her out, giving her no indication that I'd planned to jump from the balcony only seconds before.

Fulcinia was in the room when I arrived, standing with a strict-looking woman who was holding a large amount of fabric on display for her. They both turned to me when I entered, and Marisa edged back out with a curtsy to Fulcinia and me.

The older woman eyed me critically, and I blushed from the scrutiny. "Take off your dress, girl. I have no time for games."

I obeyed her, feeling awkward standing there in my underclothes in front of them. They both ignored me though, taking over the fitting easily. My opinion was not asked, and I was thankful for that. I did not have one to offer anyway. I did not care if the dress was made from silk or satin, or if it has sleeves. I had no interest in this at all, therefore their lack of acknowledgement on my part was a blessing.

It seemed like hours before they had an accurate idea of my dress. They pinned a large amount of fabric around my body in a rough draft sort of idea on what my dress would look like. I was not given a chance to examine it before it was torn from my body.

"I will sew it tonight," said the severe dress designer. "In two days I will fit it again."

Fulcinia nodded, and then turned to me.

"We must meet Marius and Alecto," she said quietly. She was remarkably like me in the way she spoke, never loud. I followed her out of the room, admiring the presence she had. Although her voice was low, it was impossible to look her over like you could me. She had an aura of wisdom that made you feel inferior before she even spoke. She was smart, although she pretended not to be. I figured she had to know why I was betrothed to her son. My heart went out to her, and I wanted nothing more than to tell her that I didn't want this, any of it. Perhaps she knew that too.

Two burly guards opened the double doors that led to the ornate dining room. It was mostly filled by a long rectangular table that could hold around fifty people. Marius currently sat at the head with Alecto to his right. Fulcinia settled herself on his other side, and I sat next to her, perching on the very edge of my seat. Marius grinned at me, showing all of his yellowing teeth. Plates of fruit and bread were set in front of us, and I picked up one green grape and started to eat.

"The fitting of the dress went well, I assume," Marius said, his normal arrogance forever present. Fulcinia murmured her assent, and he nodded approvingly. I glanced at Alecto to see him disinterestedly tearing his bread into pieces between his fingers. I dissected his appearance, noting the amount of baby fat still on his cheeks. He was a child. I was marrying a child.

The rest of the meal was silent, and our plates were taken when we finished. Marius leaned back lazily in his high-backed chair, and patted his round stomach. I thought of having this man on top of me, and almost lost the meal I'd just consumed.

"We will be greeting guests tomorrow," Marius announced suddenly. Fulcinia kept her eyes on the tabletop, but Alecto looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. I cocked my head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

"Senator Secondus Honorius, my brother, shall be arriving from Hadrian's Wall with an escort," he said pompously, like having that man for a brother was the biggest honor bestowed on anyone. "I have had the servants prepare his rooms. You should all be in the entrance hall by midday to greet him."

He stood, leaving the table with only one last crude glance in my direction. I pretended not to notice, but the hairs on the back of my neck tingled unpleasantly. Fulcinia excused herself next, leaving Alecto and I. Silence stretched on for what seemed like eternity, so I finally looked up at my future husband. He was staring at the tabletop like he was hoping it would provide answers for whatever questions were in his head. He lifted his head suddenly, and met my gaze. His eyes widened a little, and he blushed profusely. I looked away, knowing I made him uncomfortable. I should have known when Marius told me that Alecto expressed interest in me that it was all a hoax for something else. Alecto never glanced in my direction before he was told he would marry me, and ever since then he would look away quickly whenever our eyes met.

"Your eyes are green," he said suddenly, forcing me to look at him again. His blush became redder, and his jaw tensed like he wished he hadn't spoken.

"Is that bad?" I asked, hoping he would say yes and that he refused to marry anyone with green eyes.

"No…it's just that they were hazel before," he answered, chipping away at a splintering piece of wood on the arm of his chair.

I felt my skeptical expression, and quickly rearranged it into something I hoped was relatively unsurprised. In all honesty, I'd never thought he would have noticed what color my eyes were.

"They change in the sun sometimes," I replied, quieter than before. He nodded without looking at me, and left the room. It was the longest conversation we'd ever had.

/\/\/\/\/\

That night I sat in a tub that had been brought to my room, bathing myself contentedly. This was the one part of the whole ordeal I'd enjoyed: the baths. The one part about them I didn't like were the smelly oils. I raised my leg from the depths of the water, watching the way droplets of it trickled down my thin leg. Marisa complained often about looking like a ten year old when she stood next to me because of her lack of womanly curves. I thought she was much more beautiful than me with her black curls, tanned skin, and brown eyes. No amount of a figure would make me more desirable. She blended in here, which was even more desirable. She was the epitome of a Roman, but I would forever represent whatever foreign nationality my father was. I felt ugly in a world full of brunette girls with dark brown eyes.

Marius must have thought differently. My leg returned to the water with a splash, and I felt all of the stress come back to me. I twirled a wet strand of blonde hair around my fingers, admiring the golden shine when the candlelight hit it.

The door to my room opened, and Marisa walked in with an armful of absorbent cloths. I stood, allowing her to wrap me in them. She picked up some oils on the floor by the tub, and my face scrunched up in annoyance. She laughed at my expression as she nudged me to the seat at the end of my bed.

"Don't get that look," she chastised teasingly.

I grumbled as she rubbed the oil into my hair, filling the room with the overpowering scent of lavender. She used a different kind on my hands, and then she ran a thick comb through my hair, yanking at the tangles, making me squeak with pain. She paid me no mind, going about her business as if it weren't hurting me.

"How did the fitting go?" she asked randomly.

"Fine," I replied. "I must go back in two days to see if must be taken in."

She nodded. "I knew Lady Fulcinia would make sure it was all over with quickly. Much less trouble for you that way."

"There will be men arriving here tomorrow," I informed her as she laid my nightgown down next to me. I pulled it on, pushing my hair over my shoulders so she could plait it.

"Yes, we've been preparing for their arrival all day," she sighed frustratedly. "They could have given Marius more than one day of warning."

"It will be the one man and his guards?" I asked, tugging at a loose thread on the sleeve of my shift.

"They are not just guards," she said almost reverently. "They are the Sarmatian knights and their commander, Arturius Castus."

My eyebrows rose. I'd always heard stories of the famed soldiers, the very best of the best. Their heroism was just as renowned as their deadliness. I was rather curious to see them, imagining hulking men with muscles bigger than their brains, almost to big to be allowed on less than two horses.

"You should get some sleep," Marisa advised, breaking me from my reverie. "You must wake early tomorrow."

I nodded, walking to the side of the bed and sliding between the soft sheets comfortably. Marisa replaced the oils, and then doused all of the lamps before leaving silently.

"Good night," I whispered to the empty room. My exhaustion caught up with me, and I fell asleep before I could even fret about the day's events.

**That concludes chapter one. :) So what do you think? I hope it's at least a bit realistic, and that I've kept everyone in character so far.**

**Two reviews until the next chapter? Is that alright? You guys are always welcome to call me out when I'm out of line. (:**

**So thanks for reading, and I'll hopefully be seeing you sooner rather than later! ;D**


	3. Stand In the Rain

**I'm finally back! Thanks for the reviews everyone! :) I'm glad you're liking it so far. I feel like my author's notes for "Your Tears Are Empty" are unnecessarily long, so I'm going to try and make them short for this one. If you give a crap about my personal life (which you probably don't), you can check out my A/Ns for that one.**

**But thanks for the reviews, the alerts, the favorites, and all of that! You guys make writing worthwhile. :D**

**Onward!**

_"She won't make a sound. Alone in this fight with herself, and the fears, whispering. If she stands, she'll fall down. She wants to be found. The only way out is through everything she's running from. Wants to give up, and lie down. So stand in the rain. Stand your ground. Stand up when it's all crashing down. You stand through the pain. You won't drown, and one day what's lost can be found. You stand in the rain."-Superchic (k)_

Marisa woke me only about two hours after dawn, and moved me through my routine in a half-sleep daze. She loosed my hair from its plait, and pinned it back elaborately leaving plenty of ringlets to hang around my face. She found my best dress which was made from the most expensive silk available in a rich dark blue with gold trim. It had sleeves, but they were slit up the sides so that my arms show every time I moved them. Gold sandals were strapped to my feet, and a length of thick gold ribbon was tied around my waist to accentuate my curves. Marisa tied it in a bow at my back, leaving two long strands to hang to the back of my knees.

The house was chaotic as I went to break my fast with the family before we greeted our guests. Servants rushed around to clean rooms that were already spotless, and vases of beautiful wildflowers were placed around to give the house a brighter look. I could feel the hot air of the summer on my neck as I passed by an open door, and thanked any god that would listen that it was warm. I did not like the cold even though I'd lived in it my whole life.

It was another silent meal at the table until one of the guards came in to warn us that the men had been spotted nearing the estate. Marius was up in an instant, nearly shoving me, Fulcinia, and Alecto from the room. We collected ourselves in the entrance hall, and I was forced to stand next to Alecto, slightly behind Marius to his right with Fulcinia in the same position to his left. The large double doors were opened by two big guards, and the sight of many men on horseback surrounding a carriage greeted us.

Standing so close to Alecto, I became very aware of how much shorter he was. The top of his head only reached my ear. I hoped that would change soon.

The carriage halted, and the men got off their horses. One of the ones in Roman armor opened the door, and a man that looked like a great deal like Marius only older and taller with a very long beard stepped down.

"Brother!" he called, holding his arms out in greeting. They embraced while a group of men filed in behind them. I kept my chin down, only glancing up every couple of seconds. I felt small even though the boy I stood next to was shorter than me.

"Ah, Fulcinia," Secondus cried next, kissing her hand while she smiled faintly. "You become more beautiful with every passing year." He turned to us next, and I felt myself flush.

"Alecto," he greeted, shaking his hand. Alecto simply nodded, no emotion on his face at seeing his uncle who rarely visited. He was always a bit cold towards everyone, but I didn't mind it. I'd rather he was distant. The man suddenly grinned knowingly at me. "And this must be the lovely Xanthe who will become my niece." I curtsied to him, and he laughed while kissing my hand like he had Fulcinia's. "Even more beautiful than described."

I smiled as best as I could, even though the man seemed suspiciously cheerful to me. "It is an honor to meet you."

He grinned approvingly, and turned back to his brother. "I do apologize for how many people I've had to bring," he said flippantly, obviously not as sorry as he claimed. "I do not trust the Woads to stay to their territory, the heathens."

Marius nodded understandingly, turning to the crowd of men behind him. "And are these the great Sarmatian knights?" he asked.

One man stepped forward with a slight bow of the head. His armor was of Roman design, and there was a long sword strapped to his hip. His hair was a medium brown and wavy, and his eyes were noticeably green, even from this distance.

"Marius Honorius, I am Arthur Castus," he introduced. "I thank you for opening your home to us."

This was Arthur, the commander of the Sarmatians? He certainly wasn't as I expected. He was big and muscular, yes, but not nearly as big as I'd thought. He even seemed intelligent and thoughtful. I never would have thought him the man of legend if he had not claimed to be so.

"Ah, it was no trouble," Marius responded flippantly, flapping his arm stupidly.

"My knights," Arthur said, waving his arm at a line of men behind him.

My eyebrows rose before I could collect myself. They were all wearing armor that was foreign to me. Sarmatian, obviously. None of them were overly large like I thought. One was so tall that he stood out immensely, had a bald head and a scar running down the side of his face, and a grave expression. Another was a bit big around the middle, also bald, and had a scar on the top of his head. The rest were actually muscular in an only subtle way, not owning the large biceps or vacant expressions I expected. My eyes roamed over them. The one standing just a bit behind Arthur was watching Marius with subtle distaste. His eyes were dark, his hair was curly, and he seemed cleaner than the rest. Two swords were strapped to his back, and he held himself sternly with both hands behind his back. Behind him was a man with long, dirty blond hair and a beard to match. His eyes flicked back and forth between his commander and Marius, and he was smiling for no apparent reason. The man next to him also had curly black hair and beard, but his was much more untamed than the first's. He looked younger than the rest of them, and was the only one wearing a kilt rather than pants. The one at the very back of the line had dark brown hair that I would have thought black if he weren't standing in the sunlight. His eyes were almost hidden by the random plaits scattered throughout his hair, but from what I could see of them, they never sat still. They were looking between every person in the room, and then around the whole entrance hall. When they landed on me, I look away.

"Yes, yes," Marius said happily, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to my home, Sarmatians. We are glad to have you." The blond knight suddenly snorted, but quickly followed with a loud cough to hide it. His scruffy companion grinned.

"Fulcinia and Xanthe will show you to your rooms," Marius continued. I raised my head, eyes widening. I didn't know where they were staying. How was I supposed to show them where to go? I rarely left my chambers. "Lunch will be served in an hour, which should give you enough time to rest and get settled. Fulcinia?"

Thankfully, Fulcinia gripped my arm tightly, gestured for the men to follow us, and started down the hall with the knights and the senator following. I trailed after her, looking around the halls as we passed. I'd never been to this part of the estate. When I was a servant, I was restricted to Fulcinia's quarters, and I rarely left my room for anything other than meals since I'd become Alecto's betrothed.

"Senator," Fulcinia said in her heavily accented voice. "You will be here, and Commander Castus, there. Sir Lancelot, you shall be next to the Commander. Xanthe, can you show the rest of them where to go?" My eyes bulged, and she leaned in to whisper, "Just put them anywhere, Marius does not care."

I nodded, and started down the hall with the other five men following while Fulcinia spoke to the three. I guessed they were the most important of those here, otherwise they would have been just thrown to any room as these were. I flung open the door to the right of the hall, and decided it was clean.

"One of you can take this one," I said. The bald man with the slash on top of his head shoved by, throwing his stuff haphazardly onto the floor.

"Thank you, lady," he said, bowing exaggeratedly. "Bors, the very bravest of all the Sarmatian knights." The others jeered at him, but he ignored it.

I bowed my head with a fake smile before gesturing across the hall. "One of you can take that one, and the one next to it."

The tall man with the bald head took the one across the hall, and the one with the shifty eyes took the one next to it.

I went down to the end of the hall, opening two doors. "These will be yours."

"Thank you," said the scruffy one. He took my hand, and kissed it, making my cheeks flame. "Galahad, at your service."

I didn't have chance to fumble a reply before the blond one shoved him away from me. "Weren't you listening, you dunce? She's _betrothed_. Don't scare the virgin." He winked at me, and they both disappeared behind their respective doors.

I stood there, blinking rapidly while my face burned in embarrassment. Finally I walked quickly back to Fulcinia, wishing I could just skip out of lunch to avoid speaking to the men I'd just encountered.

/\/\/\/\/\

Marisa decided to change my hair for lunch, leaving it to fall over my shoulders with a few golden clips shaped like leaves on the sides. She walked me to the hall, and threw open the door. To my chagrin, I was the last to arrive. All of the men rose at my presence, and Alecto held out my chair respectfully.

"I apologize," I said quietly, sitting down in my chair as the others settled around me.

"Not to worry, girl," said the senator. He was waving a glass of wine around, and was already pink in the face from the effects of the alcohol. Arthur had to duck to avoid being clobbered in the head with it.

Marius sat at the head of the table with Fulcinia to his right and the senator to his left. Alecto sat next to his mother, and I was next to Alecto. I looked to my right, and immediately wished I hadn't. Next to me was Galahad, the one who'd kissed my hand. He smiled, but I winced, deciding the other side of the table was very interesting all of a sudden. Next to Arthur was Lancelot, and across from Galahad was the one with the shifty eyes and plaits in his hair. Next to Galahad was the one who'd told him not to "scare the virgin", and on his other side was Bors, who was across from the tall, scary one.

"As I was saying," Marius said, setting down his silver goblet, "it will be in the back garden, of course. For the time of day, the sun will be shining back there instead of in the front."

"Yes, good idea, brother," Secondus said stupidly. He turned to me suddenly, and pointed the lump of bread in his hands at me. "You are not from here, are you?"

I did not like having all of the attention on the table on me, and looked down. "I am Roman."

"No," he denied, slamming his goblet down. "We do not see hair like that in Rome. You've got something else in you."

"I do not know," I whispered, feeling a strange urge to cry. It felt like he was accusing me of something bad.

"No matter," he responded, shoving a lump of cheese in his mouth. "You will make beautiful children with Alecto, I have no doubt."

My head snapped back up, and my mouth clamped shut. I glanced at Lancelot, and saw the inquisitive look he had fixed on me.

"Commander, you will be staying for the wedding, will you not?" Marius asked cheerfully.

Arthur smiled but shook his head. "I cannot, sir. I have duties to be taken care of back at the Wall."

"Nonsense!" Secondus bellowed. "It is only a week and a half away! I will send word to Rome that you will stay with me. I need an escort back anyhow. It would make no sense for you to leave only to have to return for me."

Arthur glanced at his knights, who all looked stoic. "Thank you. That is most gracious, senator."

He waved away the thanks, and then engaged in conversation with his brother. The men at the table joined in, all speaking of battles and skirmishes that had occurred around these parts. I ignored it all, only picking at my meal. Every once in awhile, I could sense that someone was staring at me, but never looked up. I tried to make myself seem smaller, hating it when too much attention was on me at once.

The plates had long since been cleared, but the men continued to drink and talk. Fulcinia, Alecto, and I remained unnoticed; the only people at the table who did not care much for conversation.

Eyes were penetrating my skull, and I couldn't ignore them no matter how much I tried. After it had been making my neck prickle for around five minutes, I couldn't help but look up for the source of the feeling. My eyes met shocking hazel, and I couldn't look away. The knight with the plaits was leaning heavily on the arm of his chair, slouching low. One of his hands stroked his chin thoughtfully, and his eyes were slightly narrowed as he looked at me. My heart was racing, and I realized it was the first time ever in my life where I was aware of it beating. Not even running from captors or when the midwife was killed had I ever acknowledged my heart, but now it was begging for me to notice it. His head cocked to the side, and something passed through his eyes. The only person who had ever paid me so much notice was Marius, but this knight's was not lustful. It was curious.

"Xanthe?"

I forced myself to look away, turning to Marius. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, and I realized I'd been asked a question.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked, trying to slow my heart. It was beating a tattoo against my ribcage.

"I asked where you lived before coming to this estate," Secondus said.

I looked to Marius, not knowing if it was acceptable for me to tell him the truth. He nodded, so I said, "I lived in many places. I was a slave."

Secondus's breath sucked in harshly, and Marius said, "We bought her at the market only months ago to be a handmaid to Fulcinia. Alecto, however, would not allow this to continue. Couldn't take his eyes off her."

The men chuckled, and Alecto's lips turned up, but it was not a smile, only the semblance of one. I saw the lack of feeling in his eyes.

"We figured that she is Roman and a Christian, so it was harmless. Our son gets what he wants," Marius continued.

He failed to mention that I was not a Christian before I got here. I had no allegiance to a god, so Marius had me baptized before announcing our betrothal. I was not eager, nor was I opposed. I did not believe in any god, thinking that no deity would allow such cruelty in the world. We just were, no divine entity had any part in this world.

"I think I may retire for the day," Secondus said, pushing his chair back. "It was a long journey, and I wish to oversee the unpacking of my belongings." He nodded to everyone, and then left with a few servants scurrying after him.

Everyone separated after that, and I left as fast as I could so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. I felt eyes on my back, and shocked myself by automatically knowing whose they were. I didn't look over my shoulder to confirm it, but I somehow knew that they were the strange man who made my heartbeat quicken. I wasn't sure if I liked the feeling, so I fled from it. Back in my room, I stood at the balcony, staring out over the walls around Marius's estate. I had not been beyond the walls since I was brought here. Marius would not allow it, not wanting me to mix with the serfs. I heard Marisa enter, but did not turn to look at her. The soft summer breeze lifted a few locks of my hair and blew them around my face. I closed my eyes, wishing I could just disappear.

"Alecto is a gentleman," Marisa whispered from behind me. "You will not be like Fulcinia, forced to be a trophy on his arm."

I did not answer. The truth was that that was not what I was abhorred to. It was the idea of taking away Alecto's chance at a real bride, real love. I knew that I would not find it now, being only a slave that came into luck. Alecto was the best chance I had, but he could have so much more than me. He was only a boy, and I was taking away his life, among other things. Eventually, the death of his childhood and innocence would be by my hand.

The door opened again, and I turned around this time, wondering who it would be. Marius entered. He jerked his head at Marisa, and she curtsied and scurried out. I was very aware of just how alone I was, and a feeling shot through me like lightning, one I had not experienced many times. Fear.

He strolled towards me casually, smiling, but with that usual leer in his eyes. I was quite aware of the wall behind me, and had the notion that I was being cornered.

"You did well today," he complimented casually. "You play your part well."

I dipped my head. "Thank you."

He chuckled, and then stepped up so that he was only inches away from me. Marius was not a tall man, but he was taller than me. I felt cowed, and resisted the urge to run away. He touched one of the pieces of my hair that had escaped, and curled it around his fat finger.

"You are beautiful," he said. It felt less like a compliment than it should have been. When I didn't reply, he smirked down at me. "I knew when I saw you that I could not allow you to serve my wife. I had to keep you around for...more useful purposes."

He leaned towards me, and I gasped, stepping away so that my back pressed against the wall. "Stop," I whimpered.

He sneered, and stepped closer to me. "I saved your life. Who knew where you would have eventually ended up if I had not gifted you to my son. A brothel, most likely! You will do as I say!"

With that, he attacked me, forcing his thin lips onto mine. I tried to cry out, but he just smothered my yells in his mouth. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to push him away. He grabbed both of my wrists in tight grips, and forced them above my head on the wall. I wriggled to break free, but he was stronger than me. He pried my lips open with his own, and pushed his tongue into my mouth. I wanted to scream, to do anything to stop him, but instead, I went limp. I did not respond, but I did not fight. I remembered Eurydice and Corinna talking in the kitchens, and fought off tears that built up.

He pulled away, letting go of my wrists. There were dark red marks on them from his fingers, and my lips felt swollen. He smiled evilly, and patted my cheek.

"See?" he said quietly. "If you don't struggle, you will enjoy it." He leaned closer so that he was close to my ear. "And there will be more." He nipped my earlobe, making me jump, and then he was gone.

I stood there, staring at the back of the door. I clutched my aching wrists, and finally let the tears fall. The other servant girls spoke of their first kisses reverently, some even saying they were the best moments of their lives so far. I had not been allowed that. Mine had been stolen from me, as almost everything else had been. What had my life become?

**Drama, drama, drama. Mhm. Love it. I get out my need for angsty stories in this one so I can keep YTAE more lighthearted than I'm used to, haha.**

**But anyway, three reviews, please. :) Thanks everyone!**


	4. The Taste of Regret

**Chapter threeeee! :D Let's get straight to it!**

_"Don't be afraid of what they'll say. Just close your eyes. It will all be okay. They damaged they've caused, is it worth it all? What's taken away is the price they pay. For goodness sake, let it fade away. Let go of the past that tore you apart. Embrace this chance for a brand new start. We weren't meant to be one of them, but to live life, love, and give. They can't fool us anymore. We're far too clever."-In Fear and Faith_

That night I couldn't sleep. My eyes refused to close, and my mind would not slow down. The day's events chased themselves through my head. I tried to make sense of the strange knight whose eyes I saw when I closed mine, and I did my best to erase the memory of Marius's kiss. I thought of earlier when I had been about to throw myself off the balcony. It seemed foolish after my initial attempt, but now it was becoming plausible again.

I couldn't take it anymore. I threw the blankets from me, and stood up to grab my robe. Walking would make me tired, so I decided to go to the back garden. I'd never been there, but apparently it was where my wedding ceremony would take place.

I left the room silently, and made my footfalls as silent as possible as to not wake anyone else up. I didn't really know where I was going, but my room was in the front of the house, so I figured I'd keep walking back and down until I got to a door. I came across no one, not even any guards, which was fortunate. Normally guards patrolled around the hallways, so I wondered why that changed tonight. The distant sound of wind reached my ears, and I quickened my pace, finally seeing an exit.

The back of the house had a large amount of land almost as vast as the house itself. It was filled mostly with bushes of different types of flowers, commissioned by Fulcinia. There was a twisting pathway winding through them, like a sightseeing trail. A lone bench stood in the middle, and there was a courtyard at the far end. That was where it would all take place. I avoided that area, choosing to follow the path instead.

I stopped next to a beautiful arrangement of flowers I did not know the name of. They had white, layered petals like roses, except they were pointy instead of rounded. The middle swirled around like a windmill, and the leaves were dark green. I reached out to touch them, but stopped just before contact, frozen. I felt like I would taint them if even one fingertip touched a dainty petal. No longer was I an innocent little slave girl; I'd had another mouth on mine, one that did not belong to the man I would marry. There was no sin in that, but Marius made it feel so.

I sensed him before I heard him, and when I finally looked up, he was about two feet away, just watching me. I had that feeling again, of suddenly being able to pinpoint the exact location of my heart. He gave nothing away, not letting me know what he was thinking or feeling. I didn't move from my position centimeters away from touching the flowers. There was tension, but it was not awkward like it should have been. Everything around me felt charged.

"What's your name?" I heard myself asking. It would have been a normal question in any other situation, but it seemed strange here. I felt like I should know his name, but couldn't recall it.

"Tristan," he answered. His voice was deep and low with a foreign accent that I'd never heard before. I noticed his tattoos for the first time, simple triangular marks, two on each cheek. They accentuated his already prominent cheekbones more, but I wondered what they could mean.

He wouldn't speak again, I knew, so I found the voice that had hidden from me for so long, and put it to use.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I questioned. My words were so quiet that I expected them to get carried away on the light breeze surrounding me. He didn't answer, but I continued to wait. The breeze kicked up without warning, and the flowers swayed, connecting with the finger closest to them. I dropped my hand, jumping away. I stared at the flower, unable to figure out what I was feeling.

I looked back at Tristan when he took a step forward, and watched as he used a dagger to cut one of the flowers away from its fellows. I realized in the back of my mind that I probably should have been afraid that he'd just pulled a dagger out of nowhere, but I couldn't bring myself to be scared of him like I should have been. He held the flower between his fingers, and twirled it as his eyes met mine again.

"Why are you outside?" he asked bluntly. I remembered Marisa telling me that they were contracted by Rome, unable to return to their homes until their duty to the military was done. They were born great soldiers, but they did not wish to fight for this country that was not theirs.

"Do you want to be free, Tristan?" I asked, ignoring his previous question. His eyes flickered briefly, but became inscrutable again.

"I will never be free," he answered quietly.

I shook my head. "Neither will I."

He took a step forward, and my instincts kicked in, shouting for me to leave. My heart protested, blocking out anything but my desire to stay close to him. I did not know this man except for stories I had heard of him and the knights, and those alone told me to avoid him. He was a natural killer, and although I had done nothing ill towards him, it might not matter to a man who'd killed thousands of men before. In all honesty, his emotionless state should have scared me as well, but instead I was curious to know what he was hiding behind those blank eyes and mass of braids. The norm did not apply here, for I felt like I'd met him before this day.

He reached out, and placed the flower behind my ear, fingertips tangling in my hair as he did so. He pulled his hand away, and it fell to his side. That small contact left me feeling empty, and I had the feeling I should reach out and touch him. I didn't, knowing how unacceptable that was. This whole encounter was more than forbidden. I should not be alone with any man so close to my wedding.

He was backing away, towards wherever he'd come from. I didn't protest, but I yearned for him to return to my side.

Right before the darkness swallowed him, he said, "Do not go anywhere alone if you don't want him to touch you again."

My heart jolted. He knew about Marius. How could that be?

I opened my mouth to plead with him not to tell anyone, but he had already disappeared.

/\/\/\/\/\

The next morning Marisa was in her usual cheerful mood as she prepared me for my day. She sang to me as she plaited my hair so that it hung over my right shoulder, and entwined a deep red ribbon in it at the end. The dress I wore matched the ribbon, and laced in the front. It showed more of my chest than I was used to, but I didn't protest. My mind was miles away the whole time she was with me, and she either didn't notice or didn't want to disturb my thoughts.

"When did you get that?" she asked. I lifted my head, and she was holding the white flower Tristan had put in my hair. I swallowed, forcing the blush back down so I didn't look suspicious.

"I went for a walk last night, and I thought it was pretty." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. She smiled, setting it back down on the table next to my bed.

"Yes, the gardenias are beautiful this time of year," she said. "They're not common in these parts, but Lady Fulcinia loves them." She suddenly giggled.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, I was just thinking that it would be so sweet is Alecto gave you some of those."

"Why would that be sweet?" I questioned.

"They have symbolism," she replied. "It would mean he was telling you he thought you were lovely."

I blushed, thinking of the actual man who'd given it to me. I wondered if Tristan knew the symbolic meaning to the flower. I doubted it. He did not come across as the type of man who concerned himself with what certain flowers would mean. But why did he do it in the first place? He was a mystery, and I wanted to solve it, no matter how wrong it was.

Suddenly she gasped. "What happened to your wrists?"

I looked down, seeing the identical blotchy discoloration on both sides. The bruises seemed to mock me, reminding me of the man who had put them there.

"I fell," I replied quietly. It was a lame excuse. If I fell, I would not have gotten identical bruises on my arms. I was glad that they weren't shaped like fingers. I could tell she didn't believe me, but she knew it was not her place to accuse me of lying.

"We will just put some bracelets on you," she said quietly, taking out two thick, gold arm bangles that were a bit tight on the skin, causing an ache on the bruises. I did not complain, knowing it was better to keep them hidden.

I arrived to the dining hall when only Marius, Fulcinia, Alecto, Arthur, and Lancelot were present. The men stood again, and I sat down.

"Good morning, Xanthe," Arthur said kindly.

"Good morning, Sir Arthur," I responded, taking the goblet of water a servant offered me.

No more pleasantries were exchanged, as the other knights entered then. They were talking boisterously, and the one called Bors was cackling louder than the rest of them. They did not take the same seats as they had yesterday, which was traditional. I saw Marius's flash of annoyance, but he hid it well after that. The blond one sat next to me, with Galahad on his other side. The tall one sat next to him, with Bors across the table. Tristan settled himself next to Lancelot, and I turned my face away from him. Our encounter could never be made known, and I would certainly not be the one to give it away.

"I trust you all slept well," Marius said to them all, and they murmured their confirmation. He nodded approvingly, and Secondus burst through the door the knights had just entered through.

"Good morning," he called, sweeping around like he owned the world. He plopped himself down next to Arthur, and accepted the goblet offered to him.

Food was brought in, and conversation was launched. It was not like yesterday where everyone spoke to each other, but there were separate conversations spread amongst everyone. I was the only one who was not talking, as even Fulcinia and Alecto were conversing quietly with one another.

"Xanthe, right?" asked the man next to me. I looked up at him, and nodded. He grinned, and stuck out his hand. "We haven't been properly introduced. I am Gawain."

I shook his hand, and nodded. I didn't really want to talk to this man. He'd managed to embarrass me on the first encounter we ever had, therefore I was not very optimistic about any others we might have.

"So you were a servant, and now you're marrying the heir," he said, chuckling. "You're a lucky one, aren't you?"

I shrugged, swallowing my bite of apple. "Some might see it that way."

He arched an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"I did not say that," I pointed out.

Uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "How old are you?" he asked randomly.

"Twenty winters. Why?" I asked curiously.

"By the gods, you are the most sullen girl I've ever met," he said bluntly. I just stared at him blankly, already starting to dislike him. Suddenly he was grinning again. "I shall have to change that, won't I?"

Gawain picked up a grape, and glanced around at everyone quickly before chucking it down the table. It slapped into Bors's forehead, and he yelped into the goblet he'd been taking a drink out of, spilling it all down his front. He glared suspiciously at everyone while the big man across from him gave him a look like he was questioning his sanity.

Gawain, however, turned towards me, and pretended to be deep in conversation. I found myself grinning, and taking a quick sip of water to fight the laugh that bubbled up in my throat.

"There it is!" Gawain exclaimed, pointing at the bottom half of my face. "Smile more often, it makes you prettier."

I blushed again, deciding that he may not be as bad as I thought. He was just painfully honest, which I could appreciate even if it did get a bit aggravating.

"You shouldn't have done that," I decided, shaking my head even though I was still smiling.

"Eh, it accomplished what I was going for," he said, shrugging. He reached across me, and took the rest of my bread. When I glowered at him, he winked.

Suddenly an apple slice careened across the table, and smacked into the side of Gawain's face. Galahad let out a loud snort from his other side, and Gawain turned very slowly to glare at Bors, who just smirked, and waved his fingers femininely at him. I laughed, and Gawain turned his glare on me.

"So now you laugh?" he asked, removing the fruit from his face. "Who's side are you on?"

"Not yours," Tristan suddenly spoke up. I couldn't avoid looking at him now, but when I did, he was smirking slightly at Gawain.

"Mutiny," he sighed, using a cloth to wipe the sticky juice from his face and some of his hair. "Can you believe the lack of fidelity in the young ones these days, Tristan?"

"You took my bread," I reminded him. "_That's _mutiny."

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye as he took a swig from his goblet. "Are you getting cheeky?"

"Probably," I said casually.

"Knights," Marius suddenly said over the din of conversation. Every head turned to him as silence fell. "I hoped you might join me and my family for a walk around the grounds."

"Yes, of course," Arthur answered for them, and we all rose. Marius and Secondus strode out in the front, talking loudly. Lancelot and Arthur followed. Fulcinia whispered something in Alecto's ear as she passed, and he stared after her for a moment before taking my hand. I knew what the gesture was: a sign of possession rather than affection. Fulcinia wanted him to show his claim on me even though it was already known amongst these men who were only visiting for my wedding. Alecto did not look at my face, just started to walk after his mother. The knights followed after us idly as we retreated to the gardens.

Marius told tales of having the house built that traveled back to the rest of us on the wind. I had no interest in them, not caring about the lands I would live on for the rest of my life. When I thought of it that way, I felt even more trapped than I already did. I would probably never leave here again.

We passed the gardenias, and I turned around, wanting to see if he would react. Tristan was looking at them, but switched to me as if he could feel my eyes on him. He showed just as little emotion as he had the night before, and gave no indication that he even remembered our little midnight encounter. I turned back around, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

After our walk, everyone was allowed to do as they pleased. For me, that meant returning to my room. Marisa was there, sorting through my clothes.

"I've decided to color code your dresses," she explained simply. I smiled at her genuinely. It was one of those strange things she did without reason that made perfect sense to only her. It was one of the things that made me fond of her.

"How was your walk?" she asked.

"It was fine," I answered. "I like this weather."

"I prefer it when the sun is out," she responded. I nodded in agreement, walking to the table beside my bed. I gently picked up the white flower, and cradled it like it was made of glass. It was beautiful, and hadn't wilted at all yet. The overlapping was complex, and I raised it to my nose to sniff it. It was like nothing I'd ever smelled, it was classically floral, but had a hint of sweetness that I couldn't describe.

There was a knock on the door, and I set the flower back down on the table. "Enter."

To say I was shocked when Alecto walked in would have been an understatement. I realized that it could have easily been Marius walking in, and nearly slapped myself hearing the echoes of Tristan's warning from last night.

Marisa had frozen with two dresses in different shades of green in her hands. Her mouth was slightly open as she gazed at Alecto, who seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Marisa," I said. Her eyes darted to me, and I gave her a poignant look. She shook her head like she was clearing it, and then put the dresses on the bed before slipping out of the room.

I tried to smile at Alecto, but I couldn't. I settled for looking inquiring, and sat down at the small couch-like bench at the end of my bed. He looked around the room with his arms clasped behind his back, purposefully avoiding where I sat.

"I wanted to speak with you, Xanthe," he said quietly. His maturity far surpassed his age, and I wondered what had stolen the childhood light from him.

"About?" I asked.

"I know that this cannot be…pleasant for you," he said earnestly, staring at his feet. "I cannot understand how it must feel to be marrying someone six years younger than you, but I know that you don't want to. I appreciate that you have been patient with everything."

I couldn't seem to fathom his words. He appreciated _my_ efforts? This made no sense.

"Alecto, that is crazy," I said. He looked up, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I should be the one saying those things to you. I know that you do not care to marry me, and I am fine with that. I have to thank you for even agreeing to this arrangement, and not trying to throw me out or have me killed in my sleep." He smiled shyly, looking back down at his feet. "You are more mature than any boy of your age that I have met, and I hate that I am cementing that all the more so. You will have no childhood with me here…"

He was shaking his head, so I stopped talking. "I was not allowed that anyway. It is not your fault. My father has been preparing me to take over for him since I was a baby, and I never really was able to play with other children or do things that children do. I am okay with this."

I felt tears cloud my vision for him, and quickly wiped them away with one of my knuckles. No one so young should be so sullen.

"I am sorry," I told him quietly.

"It is I who should be sorry," he corrected, staring at me shamefully.

We remained like that for awhile, him looking thoughtful and me wishing that I had thrown myself off the balcony. He said he could not imagine how I was feeling, but he was the one that was really getting the short end of the stick. He was being forced to marry a woman when he was still a child, and had no knowledge that his father would attempt to bed her when his mother's back was turned.

"Would you to go somewhere with me?" he asked randomly. When I looked at him, he still blushed, and it warmed my heart a little that he still showed some signs of being his true age.

"Where?" I questioned.

"The knights invited me to watch them train with the guards," he explained. "If you would like to…"

"I'd love to," I said sincerely, standing to make my way over to him. When we were right next to each other, I kissed his cheek. "You are sweet. I wish that you had been able to find real love because you could have made someone a very lucky wife."

His whole entire face glowed with the force of his blush, and I smiled as I walked past him to the door.

**The first Xanthe/Tristan moment. How...awkward.**

**Just like YTAE, I no longer require a certain amount of reviews for the next chapter. But if I don't get reviews, I will bring it back. :P Just so everyone's clear.**

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts! Keep 'em coming! :D**


	5. My Paper Heart

**I don't know what happened last night, but the reviews for this exploded. I think I got around seven? I don't know, but it was incredible for one night! So while my mother and I stopped for coffee on the road, I decided to take advantage of the wifi and update this. I won't update Your Tears Are Empty though. Sorry for those of you who read it, but the cliffhanger in the next chapter is a thousand times worse than the current one. Trust me, I'm taking mercy on you, haha.**

**I'm sorry if there are grammar mistakes. I've been up since four in the morning and it's almost eleven now. I still have one hour of driving to go as well. -.-**

_"Please just don't play with me. My paper heart will bleed. This wait for destiny won't do. Be with me. Please, I beseech you. Simple things that make you run away. Catch you if I can. Waiting. Day to day it goes through. My lips are sealed for her. My tongue is tied to a dream of being with you. To settle for less is not what I prefer."-The All-American Rejects_

The guards had quarters at the side of the house, just on the inside of the walls. In front of the small brick house was a large clearing that the guards used to train when they weren't on duty. When we arrived, there were a few brawls in full force. The sound of harsh clashes of metal on metal greeted my ears, and a lot of dust was being kicked up as the men danced around each other skillfully.

It was easy to tell which of the four sparring matches going on were the knights'. They were surrounded by the most people, were moving the fastest, and their weapons were the most unusual.

Lancelot and Gawain were the two fighting, I found out when Alecto and I made our way to the front of the bystanders. Neither of them were wearing shirts because of the heat of the day, and I couldn't help but run my eyes over both of their sculpted torsos. I was glad my blush could be written off as effects of the heat.

Arthur hailed Alecto from the other side, and I gestured for him to go talk to him without me. I wanted to watch the fight, not feeling at all in the mood for being overly pleasant as I would have to be with the Roman commander.

Lancelot swung one of his two swords up towards Gawain's chest while swinging into his knees with the other. Gawain blocked the first sword with a mace he had in one hand, and jumped up so that the other knight's sword passed harmlessly through air where his legs had just been. When he landed he hacked an axe towards Lancelot's side, which he parried. All of those actions happened in about the course of a second, and my eyes were darting quickly, trying to take everything in. I could definitely see why these men were legendary fighters.

Without warning, Gawain lashed out with the blunt edge of the axe, catching Lancelot in the chin. I bit my tongue to keep from squealing when Lancelot hit the ground, hard. Gawain went to deal the final blow, but Lancelot kicked him in the stomach. He fell, and didn't have time to collect himself before he was staring up at Lancelot's blade to his throat.

I thought Gawain might be mad, but he let out a loud laugh and took the hand Lancelot offered to pull him up. Gawain started to brush himself off as Lancelot gave an exaggerated bow to every corner of the arena. Everyone applauded, and I couldn't resist rolling my eyes at the spectacle.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the princess," Gawain said suddenly. I realized he was looking at me with a smirk, and raised an eyebrow at the title.

He sighed as he came in front of me with an exaggerated bow. "I do feel shame at knowing you just saw me get beat by the biggest pretty boy on this side of the wall."

"You're calling me 'pretty boy', Gawain?" Lancelot scoffed, coming up next to him. "I don't believe I am the one with the flowing gold locks."

I giggled, and Lancelot seemed to notice me for the first time. An easy smirk slid over his face, and I could tell that he was the type of man who could charm women with ease and did so often.

"I do not believe we've spoken yet, milady," he said, taking my hand and bowing to kiss the back of it. "Sir Lancelot, second-in-command."

"He likes to wave his flashy title around, but really he doesn't do anything very special," said Galahad, popping up out of nowhere. He wasn't wearing a shirt either, and most of his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat so I assumed he'd already had his turn fighting. He winked at me, and I smiled back. I'd smiled more true smiles in the presence of these knights than I probably had my whole life. They were just relaxing to be around despite their prowess with killing, and made it easy for me to laugh.

Lancelot knocked Galahad over the head with the hilt of one of his swords before sweeping back into the middle of the arena. "Who will challenge me next?" he called out to the surrounding people. No one stepped up, and he laughed. "Come now, don't be shy!"

One person stepped away from the others, dropping a sword and scabbard onto the ground. Tristan's eyes were blank as he glared Lancelot down.

"Finally, a challenge!" Lancelot laughed.

"And what was I?" Gawain asked, offended. I laughed again, but before I could assure him he'd fought well, Lancelot had dropped to one knee before me and grabbed my hand.

"I will defeat him in your honor," he said slyly, kissing my knuckles again. Galahad scoffed, and I just rolled my eyes at him. He obviously loved attention.

Tristan was unlacing the ties at the top of his tunic, and I was confused until he grasped the back of the fabric and pulled it over his head. My breath got stuck in my throat, and all of my thoughts came to a screeching halt, flying out of my head like birds scattering from the trees.

His arms were clearly defined, and the muscles moved visibly underneath of his skin, stretching whenever he moved. His chest and back were littered with scars, one of which traced from his throat to his right shoulder, seeming silvery in this light. He was still slim, despite all of the muscles. There were more tattoos across his back, and I wanted to ask him what they meant as well as the ones on his face.

All in all: he was dirty, scarred, and covered in tattoos, but I'd never seen a more gorgeous man in my entire life.

He picked up the scabbard, withdrew his long sword, and then tossed it back to the ground. He swung it through midair, testing it presumably. Without warning, he crouched, preparing himself. Lancelot laughed, and started to circle him with both of his blades raised.

"Does this happen a lot?" I asked Gawain and Galahad.

"No," Galahad said while Gawain shook his head. "Their fights are always a bit harsh, so they don't spar often."

"I think they have a lot of pent up hate towards each other, and they get it out by only maiming instead of murder," Gawain concluded.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Galahad responded. "They're like night and day."

"Maiming?" I asked worriedly. Neither of them answered.

Lancelot swung so quick I almost missed it, but Tristan was ready. He blocked easily, and retaliated with a fast blow of his own. Lancelot was grinning wickedly as he blocked each of Tristan's quick strikes with ease. Tristan had no discernible expression, just his usual unbiased disinterest. His blank eyes looked like someone about to go to sleep rather than dueling a talented swordsmen.

Their fight was even faster than Gawain's; just flashes of silver and flailing limbs. I couldn't take my eyes off of the silent knight, watching the way his eyes calculated and his arms moved with precision. There was something tragically poetic about how easily he moved. His grace seemed more appropriate for a ballroom than a battlefield.

I didn't see anything that would indicate anyone getting the upper hand, but suddenly one of Lancelot's blades went flying from his hands, landing feet away. It was all the distraction Tristan needed. When Lancelot's eyes darted to where the sword lay, he kicked his legs out from under him. When his knees hit the ground, Tristan rested the flat side of his blade on his shoulder so that the razored edge touched his neck.

Lancelot laughed, and stood back up, bowing his head to the other man. "It's always a pleasure, Tristan."

Tristan's mouth quirked a little, smirking, and then they landed right on me. I did not waver when his eyes traveled down slowly, all the way to my toes before coming back up to my eyes. We held the gaze for only a moment before he was gathering his things and leaving the arena.

"That was odd," Lancelot said, popping up in front of us.

"Tristan's always odd," Galahad pointed out. Lancelot nodded, accepting that.

"If you fought in my honor and you lost, does that mean my honor's gone?" I asked without preamble.

"That's why you don't trust Lancelot with anything you care about," Bors sighed as he walked up next to us with the tall knight at his side. "Honor, virtue…children. He seems to have a talent for losing all of them."

"Gilly got away from me _once_, but you're always bringing it up," Lancelot grumbled in reply.

"That's because he's the one that got torn apart by Vanora for it," Galahad reminded him.

"Actually Vanora reprimanded me thoroughly in the bedroom later that night," Lancelot said slyly, grinning. I blushed at the comment, not used to such blatant sexual references.

Gawain and Galahad guffawed, but Bors glowered. He suddenly pulled a short sword from his belt. "I'm getting sick of you!" he bellowed. "Duel, now!"

Lancelot swung his swords as he backed up. "As you wish," he replied with a smooth smirk.

"Xanthe, this is Dagonet," Gawain said suddenly, distracting me from the entertaining fight before me. He was talking of the tall one, who held out his hand with a smile. He didn't say anything, but his silence was less intimidating than Tristan's.

"The next time you're going to trust your honor to someone, trust it to me," Gawain said suddenly

"Will you lose it as fast?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Yes, I will. But I have much more entertaining ways of getting rid of a woman's honor."

I didn't miss the lustful glint in his eyes, and raised both eyebrows.

"You do remember that you are here to witness my wedding?" I said dryly.

"I know plenty of married women _very_ well, princess," he replied, shrugging at the end. "Just so you're aware."

I rolled my eyes at him. I remembered thinking earlier that I disliked him, but he was actually okay. He just liked to tease more than most, and it took some getting used to. He was actually rather funny when you were prepared for his sort of humor.

"Why are you calling me 'princess'?" I inquired.

He smiled. "That's what you are. You're the princess of this house."

"Hardly," I scoffed. I was a bit taken aback when he reached up and tugged on the end of my hair playfully in response. It was so familiar, like an older brother teasing his sister. I hid my smile from him, and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I should probably go get ready for supper," I informed him and Galahad.

"No, stay," Galahad implored. "It is not often we go on missions for Rome where we're allowed to bask in the company of beautiful women at the same time."

I was starting to become immune to their compliments already, and shook my head. "You shall be here for more than a week. You'll have plenty of time to 'bask'."

I walked away before they could convince me otherwise, and heard them calling after me. I smiled inwardly, thinking I may have made my first friends. Marisa was considered a friend too, but she was hired to be there for me, unlike these men. They chose to associate with me, and that made the whole experience feel more real.

He rounded the corner right in front of me, and we would have collided if I hadn't taken an involuntary step back. I looked up at Tristan, and was instantly thankful that he'd put his shirt back on. It would have been much harder to concentrate. Imagining him as he had been in the training area was making me hot under the collar as it was.

"You fought well," I heard myself say. I turned my eyes away from him after I did, knowing that he already knew that. If he wasn't a talented swordsmen he wouldn't be here.

"They like you, the others," he said lowly.

"The knights?" I asked. He nodded. "I'm…glad. They are not as cruel as some legends make them out to be."

"Some of us are," he said darkly. Something flickered in his eyes, and I wanted to step away from him at the sight of it. It was gone as quick as it had come, and I stayed where I was.

"I do not believe it," I whispered.

I knew what he was implying: that he was the man of the evil legends, or at least he thought he was. I could not imagine the man that had cut the flower from the tree, stuck it in my hair, and then advised me on how to keep myself safe was really a coldblooded killer.

"You should." His hand flashed out and grabbed my wrist, shoving the bangle down to reveal the purplish bruise on my wrist before I could protest. "Did you believe he would do this when you first met him? Goes to show how good your first impressions are."

I twisted my arm out of his grip, and he let me push the bracelet back over the mark. "How did you know?"

He only pulled an apple from the inside of his tunic, and the dagger from the other night before along with it. He cut a piece off, and ate it right off the side of the knife. I pondered how many other men's blood that blade had had on it. Yet he was eating off of it. My nose wrinkled in distaste, and his eyes flitted over my expression curiously. He looked at me for a second longer, and then moved around me to walk away.

I turned to watch his back as he retreated, and heard myself calling out to him before I could really think about what I was saying.

"You don't scare me," I told him. He stopped, but didn't turn back. "You are not a bad man. I know you think so."

He turned his head only slightly so that I could see one of his eyes. "You know nothing about me."

He left me standing there without another word.

**It's a short chapter and not much goes on, but I really like it for some reason. Writing it was fun, haha. :)**

**Thanks for all of the reviews and alerts, and I really, really hope you guys keep it up! :D I'll try to update while I'm away, but I'm not sure if I can. If not, I'll update next Friday, for sure! I love every single one of you! (I would put a heart here if it was allowed. But it's not, so just know that I tried.)**


	6. Evil Angel

**So I got my first flame, woo! I feel like I've been initiated, haha. It wasn't a review, it was a message. I won't say the name, but they bashed me for having Tristan talk too much in both of my fics and for making him seem much too emotional in Your Tears Are Empty. I'd like to point something out: nowhere in the movie does it say "Tristan never speaks. Ever. He's a mute."**

**I took his silence as him only speaking when he feels he has something to say. When you love someone, don't you feel like you always have something to say to them? If not, you have relationship problems because I feel like talking to my boyfriend all the time. But I digress. Tristan talks to the OCs in my fics because he has things to say to them. I don't think there's a single quote in any of my chapters that was unnecessary or anything like that.**

**And as for him being emotional, I didn't know that just because he's a bit stoic meant that he was a human shell. No one can read minds, therefore it is impossible to know what he was really thinking. I've also come to find that the people who show the least feel the most. :P**

**So if anyone agrees with that, please let me know because I would have some serious editing to do. I personally don't think anything I've done warranted the amount of insults I received (I'm a "shit author" whose writing "translates to mentally-challenged" and I "need to watch King Arthur a few more times before posting another chapter" because I was "clearly high when i thought i could really write a good fic". The quotes were copied and pasted.) But I guess I'm not the best judge of my own talent.**

_"Hold it together. Birds of a feather. Nothing but lies and crooked wings. I have the answer, spreading the cancer. You are the faith inside me. No, don't leave me to die here. Help me survive here alone. Don't remember, remember. Put me to sleep, evil angel. Open your wings, evil angel. I'm a believer. Nothing could be worse. All these imaginary friends. Hiding the trail, driving the nail. Hoping to find a savior. No, don't leave me to die here. Help me survive here alone. Don't surrender, surrender."-Breaking Benjamin_

I arrived early at supper that night. Only Marius, Fulcinia, and Secondus were there. Secondus was boasting of revenue he'd received from something, but stopped to stand before I sat down, as was customary.

"How was your day, girl?" he asked me cheerfully. He was kind in reality, but I didn't much like him. He was pompous, and I often saw his eyes on Fulcinia like she was a horse he wanted to buy from the market.

"Very good," I replied, adjusting the skirts of my red dress. "I watched the knights spar. They are truly very good."

He belted out a belly laugh, shaking his head. "Yes, they are," he responded, eyes twinkling as he exchanged a conspiring glance with Marius. "It's good to know those Sarmatians are good for _something_."

They started to laugh together until the door to the room slammed shut with a bang. All heads turned to see Tristan, watching us all with an angry twist to his mouth. For a moment, all was dead silent. It was blatantly obvious that Tristan heard what the senator said.

"Well, don't just stand there, knight!" Secondus suddenly laughed, albeit nervously, holding up his cup towards the door. "Join us!"

Tristan glared a little while longer before striding over to us. I turned back to the empty table in front of me, jumping when the chair next to me pulled away with a loud scraping sound. Tristan dropped into it heavily, tugging the goblet from the servant's hands unceremoniously and downing the whole thing. He held it out again lazily, and the boy with the pitcher of wine shuffled over nervously to refill it. He took another swig before sensing my gaze, and looking down at me. I blinked a few times before he raised an eyebrow. I would have thought it questioning, but I realized angrily that it was a challenge. That was what all of this was. I scowled, and the corner of his lip twitched upward.

The silence became awkward very fast. I knew that the others in the room must have noticed the stare down Tristan and I were participating in, but they said nothing. Secondus let out a relieved breath when the door opened again, letting Gawain, Galahad, and Dagonet in. They all arranged themselves at various seats at the table, but I couldn't help but notice the look Gawain gave Tristan: question mixed with mocking. Tristan did nothing to imply that he noticed.

When everyone else finally arrived, I kept my eyes on my food and ignored everything else. Tristan was just as silent next to me, not involving himself in any conversation either. I wished he would, hoping it would bring down my awareness of him. It seemed like I could sense everything he did. I could tell when he moved to pick up his goblet, and knew when he set it back down without looking at him. It unnerved me, and I would have thought he was doing it on purpose if I didn't know that that was impossible.

I reached for the pitcher of water that someone had put on the table, preferring it to wine. I poured some in my goblet, and went to return it to its place. Before I could completely remove my hand from the handle, another hand had closed over mine on top of it. My eyes darted over to Tristan's, which were already on me. I pulled my hand from underneath his, but the way his fingertips trailed over the back of it when I did made it feel like he was caressing me. My whole face burned with the force of my blush, and I turned slightly so that my back was more towards him. I heard a deep, throaty sound that I realized with a jolt was him chuckling. He was doing this all on purpose, and was thoroughly enjoying it. I turned back to him, eyes flashing, but he just raised his goblet to me slightly with an amused edge to his eyes, and took a gulp of his water.

When our plates were cleared, I stayed at the table even though I just wanted to go back to my room. I wasn't tired, but I wanted to escape the detestable man next to me. On the other hand, I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me run away from him. So I sat stubbornly and silently by his side, glaring at the wall behind Lancelot, and wishing that I could be anywhere else.

I waited until almost everyone had gone to bed, leaving only Arthur, Secondus, Marius, Alecto, Tristan, and I until I took my leave. Tristan made a strange sound in the back of his throat when I stood, but I didn't even glance at him.

Once I was back in my room, I stripped myself of my dress and pulled on the shift I slept in. I was pulling the ribbons from my hair when Marisa came in.

"Oh, Xanthe, you should have waited for me," she said, making her way to me and pulling the remainder of the ribbons out herself before beginning to run a brush through my hair.

I stared at my reflection, listening to the sound of the brush running through the gold tresses. My eyes were a darker hazel now because of the lack of sunlight. I remembered Alecto asking me why they were green that one day, and wondered if Tristan noticed the same thing. At the thought of the stubborn knight, a crease etched onto my forehead. He was confusing like no one I'd ever met. How could he seem so…and then change to…. By the stars, he was frustrating!

"Marisa?" I asked.

"Hmm?" she said, continuing to brush my hair.

"Are you married?" I asked.

She laughed airily. "No, and I doubt I ever will be. I'm not the sort."

"Have you ever…," I trailed off, too embarrassed to finish the question.

She smiled knowingly at me in the mirror's reflection. "Ah, so that's what this is about." She set the brush down, and moved to sit at the side of the bed. When I looked at her, she patted the spot next to her. I went, and sat down there, feeling extremely nervous about the conversation I was about to have.

"Do you know the…mechanics of it all?" she asked. I nodded hastily, not wanting it explained again. It had been embarrassing enough the first time when the older slave at my last household told me. "What are you nervous about?"

"I never said I was nervous," I mumbled. Her head tipped to an angle, waiting for me to elaborate. "It's just that the woman who explained it all told me that its basically horrifying, and I wanted a second opinion."

She laughed loudly, making me jump in surprise. I had definitely not expected such a reaction.

"Well, some of my lovers have evoked such a reaction," she admitted. "But it all depends on the man. If you are with the wrong one, then you will feel something akin to that." Her eyes glazed over, and she seemed almost wistful when she continued, "But if you are with the right man, it will be…special."

"How will I know?" I asked.

"You just will," she replied. "There is no way to explain it, but you will know when its right."

I nodded, and she smoothed my hair affectionately as she stood. "Sleep well, my innocent little charge," she chuckled. "And do not fret over it. Alecto is already a gentleman, and I doubt that will change in your marriage bed."

My eyebrows rose, and I blinked rapidly. "Yes, Alecto. Right."

She eyed me curiously. "We were speaking of him, correct?" she asked, a slow smirk edging onto her face. "Or is there, perhaps, another?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No. There is no other. I am betrothed to Alecto. We were talking about him."

She grinned as she walked away, and paused with only her head still in the door and winked. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Marisa!" I gasped. She laughed, and shut the door, leaving me with my mortification.

/\/\/\/\/\

I was lying awake again, but not for the same reasons. I'd almost been asleep until rolling over and catching sight of that lone white flower that sat on my bedside table. It seemed to take up more space in the room as time went on, whispering words just quiet enough so that I couldn't hear them. It wanted something from me, but I did not know what. I was most likely going mad, thinking a flower was asking me to do something.

The next thing I knew I was out of bed with my robe on, slipping silently out the door. I took the same path I had last night, keeping to the wall in case I had to hide. I came across no one again, and it seemed too good to be true.

My feet hit the path as if they had always been taking this route. The familiarity scared me, but what scared me even more was that he was there when I stopped in front of the gardenias. Even now the looks we exchanged were silent challenges, daring the other to speak first.

My glare crumpled, and I frowned confusedly. All I really wanted was for him to tell me that this made sense. It did not, of course, but I just wanted to hear the words.

"How did you know I would come?" I finally asked, breaking the silence reluctantly. The tension remained.

"Intuition," he replied. His eyes trailed away from me, staring at the surroundings. I took the time to look at him, noting the tunic he wore was lighter than the heavy one he'd been wearing earlier, but his breeches were the same. He shifted, and I saw the outline of a dagger hidden under his shirt. It should have made me uncomfortable, but instead I felt safer, knowing that he would be able to prevent anyone from attacking us.

"Are you married, Tristan?" I asked. He shook his head, causing one of his plaits to obscure his right eye. "Why not?"

"No desire to," he grunted boredly.

"Is there a woman waiting for you then, back at the Wall? Or even in Sarmatia?" I wasn't sure where my boldness was coming from, prying into this man's life, but I just wanted to know about him.

"Not that I know of," he replied.

He moved quickly, and suddenly he was sitting with his legs crossed on the ground, pulling an apple out of seemingly nowhere and starting to cut pieces off. I watched silently, thinking about how disgusting it was again. Very slowly, I folded my legs beneath me and sat, like I was trying to get close to a wild animal.

"Do you remember home?" I asked.

He paused for only a second, and then continued chewing.

"I remember the sky. It is bigger there."

I tried to imagine what he said, but I couldn't fathom the expanse above me being broader than it already was.

"Do you remember home?" he repeated my question.

"I've never really had a home," I asked. His eyes flicked to me, an inaudible request for explanation. "My mother married a man she did not care for, and then found out she liked his stablehand more. I am the product of that love. To protect me from the wrath of her husband, she sent me away. I never stayed anywhere long enough call it home."

He stopped eating, and just observed me. His face was inscrutable, but his eyes seem easier to pinpoint now. He was trying to figure out how I felt about that.

"It never mattered to me," I said, shrugging a bit. "The woman she sent me away with said I was a heartless child, unfeeling. She may have been right. Even now that I am about to be married I cannot feel anything other than indifference."

He'd gone back to picking at the apple while I spoke. I stared off at a bush of roses in the distance that was swaying a bit in the slight wind. It was colder this night than it had been, and I hugged myself to keep warm.

"How are your wrists?" he asked randomly.

I looked down at the exposed skin where the bruises were, and shrugged. "The emotional scar is worse than these."

"It will get worse," he said bluntly. "I doubt he plans to hold himself back much longer."

"How do you know about all of this?" I spat, angered at his sage words.

He didn't even spare me a glance. "You are at least four years older than your betrothed, you are exceptionally attractive, and you were a servant. It is obvious you were not chosen out of the boy's love for you. He does not even look at you much."

Irritation pulsed through me. If it were anyone else, I would have stormed off. Instead I remained seated and steamed, listening to the sound of my quick heartbeat roaring in my ears.

And then I realized he called me exceptionally attractive, and all of my anger ebbed until it was gone. I felt like a ridiculous, lovesick teenage girl, and wanted to slap myself. It seemed like I could forgive him for insulting me as long as he slipped in an unintentional compliment. Pitiful.

"I think you enjoy provoking me, Sir," I said blatantly. His lips twitched perceptibly, but no other response was given.

I don't know how much longer we sat there, not talking. He eventually finished his apple and took to scratching something into the side of a different blade he'd pulled from his boot, and I enjoyed the feeling of being free from everyone else, even if it was only for this little bit of time.

I was shocked when the sky started to lighten, making me realize that we'd been out here all night. What had felt like maybe an hour had actually been many hours. Tristan stood, and I followed his example. I brushed off my backside, erasing the traces of dirt that would indicate where I'd spent my night. I turned to Tristan to tell him goodnight, but froze.

He was so close he could probably feel my breath on his chest. The top of my head only reached his chin, so I was eye to neck. My breathing was shallow as I tried to control the images of him shirtless in the training arena. He smelled like horses and pine trees.

His hand touched mine, and I thought he was just grabbing it until he pressed something cold and smooth into my palm. I had yet to meet his eyes, and had no intention to. I didn't know what would happen if I raised my head right at that moment.

His lips were close to my ear as he said, "Keep this with you." His hand slipped out of mine, leaving whatever it was in my hand. "This still does not mean you are right about me."

He was gone before I could catch my breath, and when I turned to watch him go like I had earlier, he'd disappeared. I looked down at what was in my hand to see that it was the dagger he'd been etching symbols into. There were three, all foreign to my eyes. I assumed they were Sarmatian runes. This knife was a different one than the one he ate off of (thankfully), and was smaller. The hilt fit perfectly into my palm, and the blade shone like it had never been used.

I clutched it tightly in my hand as I returned to my room, unsure how I felt about the gift. He could think I was wrong all he wanted, but bad men did not try to protect people. I had a new resolve: I would be the one to prove that to him.

**Not much goes on in this one. Like I said above, I focus on little moments that make impact. :P Sorry its so short though! Remember: the faster you review, the faster you get a chapter! ;D**

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts and...everything, really. I love you guys. :)**


	7. Rescue Me

**I want to reply to the reviews I got because they are literally some of the nicest I've ever received, but I'm in a hurry because I'm about to go out to dinner! Gah! I just really want to get this out though.**

**Two announcements: this is going to end up having about seventeen chapters. I'll post a oneshot that'll be the sort of "sequel. Two, when Your Tears Are Empty is finished, I won't post the sequel for it until this one is done so that I can give both of them my full attention. :) I didn't realize how hard it is to write so many things at once! Ahh!**

**Anyway this chapter is dedicated to AutumnFields who messaged me about the flame I got, and really made me feel better about it. :) You guys owe this chapter to her because I was originally not going to post it until tomorrow! I'm going to publicly endorse the story she's writing, which is entitled "Lacesco". Go read it, and leave her a nice review! ;D**

**And just a quick shout out to Tony, Jen, VampWolf92, and brandibuckeye for reviewing, and I'm sorry I can't reply. You guys made me smile when I was questioning my talent, and I'm glad that you guys think this story is worth your time. You're the ones that keep me writing! :D**

_"This waking nightmare lingers. When will the mirror stop telling lies? I don't know where I've been or where I'm going, but I can't do it alone. I'm reaching out. Rescue me. Show me who I am. 'Cause I can't believe this is how the story ends. Fight for me. If it's not too late, help me breathe again. No, this can't be how the story ends."-Kerrie Roberts_

The sun gently touched my face, but I didn't open my eyes. I soaked in the feeling of the rays on my exposed skin instead. The sun rarely shown in Briton, even on hot days such as the ones we'd been having. It would most likely disappear before midday, so I relished in the feeling. Listening to the birds singing, feeling the sun on my closed eyelids, and smelling the rain from the night before were all the combined effects to create the subconscious smile on my face. In that moment, I had no troubles. There was no Marius, no wedding, no aggravating senator, nor confusing, emotionless knight. It was this ethereal peace that I wasn't ready to let go of.

It was not allowed to me long. Marisa threw open the doors to my bedroom, and yelled, "Get up, my sweet, you have a long day ahead of you!"

She went right to my closet, not bothering to see if I was actually awake. My eyes opened, and my smile disappeared. Her voice broke the reverie, and all of a sudden my problems were back. I rolled to a sitting position at the side of my bed, and rubbed my eyes. When they opened again, they landed on the black dagger sitting next to a blindingly white gardenia on my bedside table. Their contrast was astounding, almost like Tristan and I, really.

Some servants scurried in through the open door carrying buckets of hot water that they filled the tub in my room with, and I quickly grabbed the dagger and jammed it under the mattress before anyone noticed it. Fulcinia knew I was uncomfortable in the public baths, so I was given my own private tub in my room. Once the servants were out, Marisa came over to me and frowned with her hands on her hips.

"You look like the living dead," she snapped. "Did you get even a wink of sleep last night?"

"Eventually," I admitted. Truth was, I felt like I might collapse on my feet at any moment, but I wouldn't tell her that. Like she said, I had stuff I needed to do today. I would perhaps take a nap later when things settled.

Marisa grumbled to herself as she dragged me to the tub, removed my shift, and nudged me to the water. Once I was settled she handed me a small cloth so I could wash myself, and then retreated to my closet again. I quickly scrubbed myself down, feeling even sleepier in the relaxing water. Marisa chose a dress, and then came back to rub oils in my skin and hair. I wasn't allowed to sit and relax like I normally was, but was forced immediately from the water and dried off unceremoniously. She pulled the cream-colored dress over my head. It was baggy and flowed around me like a tent, so she used a rope-like tie to bring it in around my hips. Its collar was higher and didn't cling to me as other dresses did, so I was much more comfortable.

Marisa made two plaits on either side of my head, and then held them down with thick silver clips that made my head ache. The remaining hair was pulled forward to rest over my shoulders, unconfined other than the two braids at the top of my head. She tied my sandals on, and then walked me down to breakfast.

When I shuffled into the room, I froze instantaneously. Tristan was sitting next to the seat meant for me again. I thought it was a one-time thing, only meant to mess with my head. Was this going to become a regular occurrence?

Conversation was already buzzing between everyone, so I slipped into my seat unnoticed. Secondus was once again the only person not at the table, and I sighed in relief knowing that I wasn't as late as I thought I was going to be.

"You look terrible," Tristan grunted.

I glared into my goblet instead of at him. "You always look terrible, so you cannot begrudge one of the attractive people for having a bad day."

When I glanced at him, he looked slightly amused instead of offended like I was going for. "I did not know you thought so highly of yourself."

"With people like you thinking so little of me, I had to find someone who could see my worth."

"You are lying."

"Am I?"

His eyes were penetrating my skull, but I did not look at him. I wondered if it would be like this for the rest of his stay: battle of wills, clash of personalities, and cruel banter by day. Talk of home, getting to know each other, and silent companionship by night. The changes brought on by daytime hours made my head spin, but that may have been the lack of sleep.

Secondus arrived, and food was served. I ate my portion in silence, occasionally feeling Tristan's eyes on me. Our goblets sat next to each other, and he seemed to always reach for his when I did mine, causing his knuckles to brush across the back of my hand. After the fourth time it happened, I gave up on drinking, and I saw his self-satisfied look at getting that reaction from me.

"Hey, princess," Galahad suddenly said from across from Tristan, "are you going on the ride today?"

"Ride?" I asked curiously.

"The senator wants to see a bit of the countryside," he said scathingly. "So we have to go to make sure no one gets attacked by blue devils."

"Oh, well I don't know," I admitted. "I have to see to some wedding plans first, so-" Tristan snorted loudly, cutting me off. I looked at him frostily.

"If I were you, Tristan, I would get that knife out of her line of sight," Galahad laughed, carefully slipping the silverware away from me.

"You do enjoy provoking me," I said accusingly, ignoring the younger knight.

"Matter of opinion," Tristan said flippantly.

"How so?"

"You say I like provoking you, I say finding entertainment where there are no people to kill."

"You are a dumb brute," I spat.

"Matter of opinion," he repeated.

"Xanthe."

I jumped about a foot in the air, and whirled around in my chair. I'd forgotten where I was, and it had been easy for a second to think that it was night and we were alone by the gardenias again. Fulcinia was leaning around Alecto to speak to me.

"We must go fit your wedding dress now," she said. I nodded, and we both stood to go. Tristan didn't look up from his food, pretending that no one had even been next to him.

The same severe seamstress was in my room when we arrived, and two of her helpers practically assaulted me as they pulled my dress over my head before I was prepared. The older woman spoke quickly in a language I didn't know to the younger girls, and they did whatever she was asking hurriedly. I stood there, naked, trying to use any means to cover myself up. I didn't have to wait long until white fabric was tossed over my head in place of the dress I'd been wearing. Two silver dress clips were fastened at my shoulders to keep it up, and then something tight was pulled around my waist.

"Much too long," the seamstress snapped, staring at the way the dress pooled around my feet. "Cut it." One of the helpers started to do just that, and I stood stock still.

It took hours, and I felt myself drifting off to sleep where I stood. The whole thing was tedious; pin this, cut that, sew here. My opinion was once again ignored, and I was grateful as I was last time.

My eyes were closed from fatigue when I heard the snaps of the clips being undone, and then I was suddenly naked again. The seamstress picked up the dress I'd been wearing before, and put it back on for me, tying the rope much tighter than Marisa had.

"I shall be ready tomorrow," she said, leaving the room with Fulcinia. I stood there alone for a moment, feeling dazed. Exhaustion was taking its toll on me, so I trudged towards the bed, hoping to get some sleep before someone came to retrieve me to do something else.

Only my knee was on the mattress when someone knocked.

"Come in," I groaned, standing back up straight. Alecto stuck half of his body in the doorway.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"For what?" I inquired. Whenever I blinked, it took too long for me to figure out how to open my eyes again.

"For the horseback ride," he explained. I held back my yell of anger, and nodded, brushing by him irritatedly to go to the stables.

When I got there, all of the knights were preparing their horses while Marius and Secondus watched servants do it for them. Fulcinia was standing unobtrusively in the corner, waiting.

"You will ride with me," Alecto told me. I raised my eyebrows, but didn't comment. I thought I was getting my own horse, but it seemed silly now that I thought about it. I didn't even know how to ride one, so it was better this way.

"Are you alright?"

I looked at Gawain with my eyes half-closed. "Spectacular," I said sardonically.

A horse was brought in front of Alecto and I, blocking Gawain from my sight and silencing whatever retort he'd had. Alecto got into the saddle with surprising ease, and I glared up at the horse. The top of my head only just looked over its back. I hated being short.

"Come," Alecto said, holding out his arm. I took it, and tried to lift myself up behind him. It didn't work. I tried again, and the same failure ensued.

I was about to start screaming in frustration when two hands grabbed either side of my waist. My mouth gaped open as whoever it was deposited me into the saddle like a small child. I looked down, and Tristan was staring up at me.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, feeling burning sensations on my waist shaped like handprints.

"Looked like you were having trouble," he replied. I opened my mouth to say something rude to him, but he was turning away. I glared at him. Somewhere in my mind it was registering that I was being much more uncouth and rude today, but my mind was moving too sluggishly to catch up with the biting comments on my tongue.

I was glad Marisa had thought to make me wear a baggy dress, otherwise my legs would have been very much exposed on either side of the horse. Marius finally climbed into the saddle, and gestured us onwards. Alecto and I were in the back, just behind Tristan and Galahad. I had both arms wrapped around his waist, feeling awkward at the rock of the horse that made me keep bumping into him.

We rode for about twenty minutes before the trees started to spin. I tried to concentrate on the sound of hoofbeats and Marius and Secondus's boisterously loud conversation, but It felt like somebody was slowly pulling me away from the crowd even though I was still there.

Without thinking about it, I leaned my cheek on Alecto's shoulder to stop the spinning, facing towards his neck. I could feel his skin heat up when he blushed, but didn't think anything of it. I shut my eyes to attempt to halt the dizziness. That was the worst thing I could have done.

I felt myself falling, but I couldn't stop it. A voice in my head screamed at my arms to hold on, but they didn't listen and I let go of Alecto. I slipped sideways off the saddle, and landed on the ground with a loud thump. My eyes burst open as pain reverberated through the side I'd landed on, and the sounds of the others panicking voices filled my ears. Someone rolled me onto my back, and I looked up at many faces trying to see me at once.

"Xanthe. Xanthe, look at me." Fulcinia's face swam before me, trying to get my attention. I'd hit my head on the ground, and now it was even harder to call any images into focus. My whole left side was throbbing painfully from the impact of hitting the ground.

"Are you hurt?" someone said firmly. The face of the Roman commander replaced Fulcinia's, trying to get me to respond. I blinked, and my eyes seemed to get stuck at the back of my head for a moment as I attempted to open them again.

And then he wasn't speaking to me. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Alecto replied. "She seemed fine, and then she fell so fast I could not catch her."

"Exhaustion," Dagonet's deep voice said surely. "I doubt she's been sleeping."

Somebody was smoothing their hand over my face, and my eyes opened again. It was Fulcinia. She grasped both sides of my head tightly, and locked her brown eyes with mine.

"Do not sleep," she commanded. "You may have a concussion."

I wanted to tell her that I understood, but my mouth didn't form the words. I nodded instead, and immediately wished I hadn't. My head exploded with pain, and there was a pathetic groaning sound like a dying animal. Chagrinned, I realized it was me.

"We have to get her back to the house to be looked at by our healer, and quick in case she tries to sleep," Fulcinia told the men.

"I'll take her."

Suddenly I was being lifted into strong arms, and I looked up into the half-concealed face of Tristan. I saw Fulcinia's cautious confusion, and the suggestive looks exchanged by the other men, causing me to locate my words.

"Unhand me this instant." I meant for it to be loud and certain, but instead it was a whisper that sounded more like a plea.

He ignored me, and put me up on his horse like he had earlier. I was tipping, about to fall the opposite way when he swung up behind me and locked his arm firmly around my waist. I could feel his entire front pressed against my back and the tensed muscles coiled in his arm as he took off into the woods, leaving everyone else dumbfounded in our wake.

He was going faster than the steady pace of before, and the horse bouncing me around was not helping the pounding headache.

"Stop, please," I whimpered, shutting my eyes.

"Can't," he replied gruffly. "Do not go to sleep."

"My head hurts," I told him.

"You just fell from a horse," he pointed out. "Heads tend to hurt after that. Why didn't you tell anyone you were feeling ill?"

"Not ill, just tired."

"You should have told someone."

"I did."

"Who?"

"Marisa."

"Who is Marisa?"

"My maid."

He scoffed. "Yes, and I see how much good that did you."

The rest of the ride was silent besides my occasional groans of pain, or Tristan snapping at me when I closed my eyes for even a second. I chose to stare at him instead, committing him to memory. His face was all sharp angles, nothing soft or babyish left on his masculine features. But something about the harshness of it made it so much more attractive than a man with kindness on his face. I wanted to know every single thing behind that mask. I wanted to know _him. _I wanted to know what was on his mind all the time, especially when he looked at me as inscrutably as he did now. The distance between us was getting smaller. Was he getting closer or was I?

"Xanthe?"

The panicked shout made me look away from the knight to see Marisa running towards me from the back of the house. Tristan dismounted, slipping me down with him. I swayed, and he grabbed my shoulders to keep me standing. She skidded to a halt in front of me, grabbing my face and looking around me for injuries, pulling me away from Tristan as she did so.

"What happened to you?" she asked worriedly. She was probably only two years older than me at the most, but she acted like a mother hen. The thought made me smile stupidly.

"I fell off my horse," I told her. She gasped.

"Are you okay?"

"My head hurts." I turned to look at Tristan, who was watching us impassively. "Tristan, I think I'm going to fall now."

My knees buckled right when I stopped speaking, and he grabbed me just before I hit the ground.

"Gods, you're a disaster, woman," he growled, hauling me up in his arms again. I giggled hysterically, not knowing why. "Where is her room?"

His question was directed at Marisa, who was glaring at him like he was an animal she wasn't sure of yet. Her eyes flicked from me to him before she turned on the spot and walked away.

"She wants you to follow," I told him when he just stared after her perplexedly. He did so, seemingly unaffected by my weight.

"Am I heavy?" I asked him, detecting the slur in my words.

He snorted. "No. You could do to eat some more after you sleep. Skin and bones."

I poked him in the cheek rather hard, and he seemed a bit taken aback by the gesture. My head slumped against his chest as I fought sleep. "I think I might follow your advice," I informed him obtusely. "I will eat so much that I'll weigh the same as your horse, and then no man will want to touch me. Alecto won't marry me, and Marius won't try and crawl into my bed at night."

Tristan's face spasmed violently as he tried to hide whatever emotion he was feeling. I watched the process interestedly, and then continued, "I want to be ugly, with a lazy eye and missing teeth. I want to have dark hair that doesn't stand out, and green skin."

"Green skin?" he questioned.

"Would you bed a woman with green skin?" I asked. He shook his head. "Point made, sir."

Marisa held the door to my bedroom open, and Tristan carried me over the threshold. I was reminded of brides in my last village being carried into their new homes by their husbands, and suddenly imagined Tristan clean, wearing nice clothes, and carrying me to our marriage bed where he would take what was rightfully his as my spouse. I guffawed at the thought, and Tristan's eyebrows met in a confused line as he set me on my bed.

"I think she may be delusional," he told Marisa smoothly.

"Probably," I replied, grinning. I caught sight of the bruises on my wrists, and held them up to my face. "These hurt."

"Hold on, Xanthe. I shall go and get the doctor," Marisa said, rushing from the room.

She clearly wasn't thinking. She had left Tristan in the room, which would cause for a lot of talk amongst many if a woman betrothed had a strange man alone in her bed chambers. Normally I would have probably made him leave, but my befuddled mind wanted him here him now. He was very out of place in this room that Marisa kept immaculate at all times.

He sat on the edge of my bed, and even in my inebriated state of mind I registered how awkward it was. I stiffened, and he turned to look at me from beneath his tangled mass of loose hair and braids.

"Do I frighten you?" he asked. It sounded tantalizing, almost like a purr. He was baiting me.

"No," I said, voice even quieter than usual. "You confuse me."

"How?"

My eyes were drifting shut, no matter how hard I fought. I said the first thing that came to my mind to keep myself in the realm of the conscious.

"You make me want things that I should not."

I knew I shouldn't have said it, even if it was true. I had known the man for three days, but every time I looked at him my heart would wake from a deep slumber. I did not know him, but my heart recognized him, even now, in every sluggish beat.

"Xanthe!" he snapped, trying to keep me awake. I couldn't anymore though, and my eyes closed.

"I don't remember ever feeling my heart beat until I met you," was the last thing I said before everything was dark.

**So if you wanted to know what I act like when I get over-tired, now you know. :P My level of dumbass skyrockets when I'm sleepy, so I attributed that to a character, haha. :)**

**So review, pretty please. :) For those of you who read Your Tears Are Empty as well, I'm not updating it yet. I'm still waiting to see if I can get a few more reviews before I do. :P I might update later once I'm back from dinner!**


	8. Let Me Go

**So thanks for the reviews! I'm glad Xanthe could amuse you guys in the last one, haha. :)**

**I realized a few things that I have to let you guys know about. First of all, I take a lot of time to pick the names of the characters, and I pick them based on meaning, not just if I like them. On my Tumblr, I've edited all the posts so that the meanings of the names are now in it. If you care to know, just click on the link in my profile. (: The only names that don't have meaning are Drenna and Egryn (from Your Tears Are Empty) because I came up with them myself. :P**

**The next thing is that after tomorrow, I won't be able to update until Monday, most likely. We've got a bunch of family crap planned for the next few days, so I'm going to be swamped. I'll try and update Your Tears Are Empty tomorrow morning, but no guarantees.**

_"All these thoughts are never resting, and you're not something I deserve. In my head, there's only you now, and this world falls on me. In this world there's real and make believe, and this seems real to me. You love me, but you don't know who I am. I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand. And you love me, but you don't know who I am. So let me go. Let me go. I dream ahead to what I hope for, and I turn my back on loving you. How can this love be a good thing when I know what I'm going through? And no matter how hard I try, I can't escape these things inside I know. I know. When all the pieces fall apart, you will be the only one who knows, who knows. You love me, but you don't know me."-3 Doors Down_

I woke up to quiet murmurings, voices conversing with each other. My mind felt so sluggish, and it took much longer than usual for me to be able to focus on the words.

"…doesn't have a concussion, twas just overexertion. Keep an eye on her, make sure that she doesn't overdo it for the next few days."

"Yes, I will."

The first voice was masculine and unfamiliar, but the second belonged to Fulcinia. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy that it was impossible. I wanted to do something, anything to escape this terrible weighted feeling.

"I see this a lot in brides before they marry," the man continued. "They take on too much, and the next thing they know, they are bedridden."

"This has been stressful for her, but I just didn't know how much." Something gently touched my cheek.

Footsteps, and then the door shut. My memory worked frantically to try and remember where I was. From the familiar softness, it was most certainly my bed. But why was I still asleep? I was supposed to do things today: get my wedding dress fitted, and-

The memory came back, and I realized I'd already done that. Something nagged at the back of my skull, begging to be remembered. What had I done that had landed me back in bed?

Like an earthquake shattering a country, the memories struck. I'd fallen off my horse on a simple ride through the trees because of how tired I was. And then Tristan carried me back…Tristan!

My eyes flew open wide, and I searched the room, expecting him to still be sitting on my bed. He wasn't, and I realized how obvious it was that he would have left if Fulcinia had been in here. I groaned, covering my face with both of my hands. I made a complete _ass_ out of myself! I'd told him things that I'd intended to keep deeply embedded in my mind. I'd let him know his effect on me, and I would pay the price for it, of that I was sure.

I pulled the blankets up over my head, and glared at the orangish light it created because of the sun. I would never live this down.

I heard my door open, and peeked over the blankets. Marisa was there, and suddenly she'd leapt on me, embracing me tightly.

"You stubborn fool!" she sobbed into my hair. "I was so worried about you! Why didn't you _tell_ someone?"

"I didn't know I was that tired," I replied. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," she sniffed, pulling away to wipe her tears on the edge of her brown servants' dress. "I can't believe I'm blubbering like this."

I smiled at her, and grabbed her hand. "You are the best friend I have ever had, Marisa."

Another tear slipped out, and she swatted my hand away. "Stop making me cry, girl!"

I chuckled, burying myself deeper in my blankets. My eyes drifted over to the balcony that opened to the sky, and I saw the sun setting. "How long have I been asleep?"

"The whole day," she answered, leaning over to take the plaits out of my hair. "Everyone's been having a right fit over you."

"Sorry," I said again, more shamefully this time.

Suddenly she was smirking knowingly. "That man with the dark hair was nearly shaking the life out of you when I came back."

I blushed scarlet at the thought of Tristan and the words I'd said to him. "Doesn't surprise me," I grumbled. "He was probably hoping my head would snap off."

She giggled, running her hand through my hair to loosen it. "I don't think so. He was quite concerned about you."

"Doubt it."

"He came back once, only an hour or so ago," she informed me, eyes gauging my reaction. "To check in on you."

I kept myself carefully void of emotion while my brain drowned in the amount of questions that danced to my lips. I held each one back, knowing that the man with the answers was not here anyway.

At my silence, Marisa continued. "He's fairly handsome, is he not?"

I slowly met her gaze, but wished I hadn't when I noticed how giddy she looked. "What are you suggesting, Marisa?"

"I'm not suggesting; I am merely making an observation." She fluffed my pillow a bit, and then lifted my chin with her hand. "Have you kissed him?"

I squealed, backing away from her. "Marisa! That's not…proper!"

"I never claimed to be proper," she scoffed, still grinning. "You have, haven't you?"

Her eyes raked over my face, mistaking my blush for confirmation. "No, nor would I ever! I'm marrying Alecto, not Tristan."

"His name is Tristan, then?" she asked, nodding approvingly. "I like it."

"Get your head back down out of the clouds," I snapped. "Nothing could happen between us."

"Only because you're acting so stubborn," she said insistently.

"You work for this family," I reminded her "You are loyal to the Honorius name. Why are you allowing thoughts like this to enter the head of the girl to marry the future man of the household?"

She shook her head. "My loyalty is not to the Honorius name; it is to myself. They bought me when I was young, but loyalty cannot be bought. I choose who to give it to, which is why I speak to so boldly to you. I swear my fealty to you, Xanthe, because you are a dear friend. I could never say the same for the others."

I started to pick at my shift while she spoke, pleasantly embarrassed by her words. No one had ever found me worthy of true emotional attachment. I was disposable wherever I went. Not even my mother's oldest friend cared much for me as she was the maid of the estate owner's, and I was not his child. This was new to me; friendship and the like.

"You could never be happy with Alecto," she said bluntly. "You are both of the same breed, so to speak, but there is no room in your heart for him, nor is there in his for you. But I can see it in your eyes." She lifted my face so she could see them. "He's already working his way into your head, isn't he?"

"We would only hurt each other," I said dully. "I will marry, and he will leave. We will most likely never see each other after this week is up."

"Then you should make the best of your time," she responded, all the tone of a doting mother. "Now get your lazy rump up, its time for supper."

/\/\/\/\/\

When I arrived at the dining hall, there was a flurry of questions rained down on me that made my head start to ache again.

"Now, now, give the girl room to breathe," Secondus said, chortling as he threw around the draping sleeves of his expensive cloak. "She can only answer one question at a time."

"How are you feeling?" Alecto asked. He was leaning very close to me, whispering. I smiled at him reassuringly, and nodded to let him know I was fine.

I looked to my right, and my chest jolted when it was Dagonet sitting next to me instead of Tristan. He'd sat him self two seats down from me with Dagonet and Bors between us. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Had he felt so disgusted at my accidental confession?

I reached for the water offered to me, but Dagonet stilled me with a hand on my wrist before I could take it. He addressed the servant, "She should have tea instead." When I stared at him with a nonplussed look, he smiled kindly. "It will help you sleep later."

I nodded, and then told the uncertain servant to fetch the tea. "So do you have healing experience, Dagonet?" I asked.

He chuckled. "One of us has to. They would all have lost limbs by now."

I grinned, and struck up a conversation with him, which made supper much more tolerable than it would have been with Tristan's obvious rejection burning in my mind.

Not that there was anything to reject. I did not have any feelings for him beyond a…normal fascination at his general person and thankfulness for bringing me back to the estate when I was hurt. He was nothing more than a guest in this home, and I viewed him as such. There were no deeper emotions, nothing. But was I so undesirable that the accidental inflection that I did harbor feelings for him had him running to the hills?

I excused myself from the table, deciding that I should probably get some rest. I didn't want anymore fainting spells with so much going on with the wedding. A hand caught mine as I stood; Alecto's long fingers wrapped around my own. I looked down for an explanation, but he stood.

"May I talk with you before you retire?" he asked. I nodded, and we left the hall together. I caught Marius's smug satisfaction, and the look of worry on Fulcinia's face.

Right before I was out of the door, I could feel eyes burning holes into my back, and I knew exactly who they belonged to. Only those golden brown orbs hidden behind massively tangled brown hair could ignite such an intense feeling on the back of my neck. I did not turn, however.

Alecto lead me to his father's library, where hundreds of books written in Latin adorned the shelf-covered walls. Most of them were of Christianity and such. Even if I had any desire to read such things, I couldn't. There was no time for literacy being a slave. I guessed I might be taught eventually, if Alecto wished it so.

He leaned back against his father's desk, and crossed his arms. He was not muscular in any sense. His mother had never allowed him to train amongst the guards and soldiers of this small settlement. He was shorter than me, but his lean frame held promises of being able to tower over me eventually. His face was angular, although bits of baby fat on his cheeks were still evident. Those would fade too, and I knew I was looking at the beginnings of a handsome man who many girls would lust after. Why could I feel nothing when I looked at him? I knew I could never feel love, but I wanted to feel…something.

"I want to apologize for the ride earlier," he said.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I said confusedly. He looked down.

"I should have caught you," he insisted.

"No, I fell too fast, there was no-"

"I am to be your husband," he protested, cutting me off. "If I cannot even save you from falling from a horse, than how am I to provide a life for you?"

My cheeks reddened instantly. His words sounded like those of a doting man talking to a lover. His face was red as well, but from anger at himself. His fists clenched under his arms, and he refused to look at me.

"Alecto," I whispered, "I do not know what it means to be stuck between childhood and adulthood. I cannot understand how it must feel to be surrounded by people older than you, half wanting to coddle you like a toddler, and the other half treating you like you are well into your years. It must be frustrating, but do not judge your whole ability to be a man based on one stupid little incident you had no control over."

His fists slowly uncurled as I spoke, and the tense coiling left his shoulders. He looked up, and smiled shyly.

"Thank you," he said heavily, and then he laughed. "We have not spoken much, but every time we do I seem to find out more about myself than you."

I smiled with him. "There really is not much to me to learn," I admitted.

"I doubt that," he scoffed. I shrugged, and then unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. "Oh! You were going to bed!"

I waved him off as he walked hastily to open the door for me. "I'm fine. No more passing out, and that is a promise."

He walked me back to my room in a comfortable silence that I would never have thought possible between the two of us. Maybe we would be able to achieve civility in our union. It might not be as bad as it had seemed before.

Once at my door, I opened it and stood in the doorway. "Goodnight, Alecto."

"Goodnight," he murmured. He suddenly lunged forward, kissing my cheek. My mouth opened in surprise, but he was already disappearing down the corridor, leaving me with a small smile on my lips.

I shed myself of the dress and pulled on my nightclothes. Marisa seemed distracted when she came to brush my hair, an we only greeted and said goodnight to each other instead of our usual conversation. Her hands even trembled so much when she put out the candles that she sent wax spilling everywhere.

It was not until I was in bed that the thoughts of Tristan penetrated my mind. It was like I was filling a cup in my head, and it was slowly starting to spill over as I tried to contain the excess amount of time I spent thinking about him. He was leaking into every edge of my conscious, subconscious, and unconscious thought. What was it about him that made me feel so strange?

A creaking sound, my door opening. I lifted my head in alarm, which swiftly became panic as I saw a figure drawing closer to me. When they entered the stream of moonlight from the balcony, I nearly screamed. Marius grinned at me from the center of the room. I gathered my blankets against my chest, and tried to control my breathing which had become erratic from fear.

"My darling, why do you hide from me?" he purred. I cringed. He was crawling onto the bed, and I was shuffling away. He grabbed my ankle, and I swished down towards him. I squealed, but he clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Now, now. None of that," he said, removing his hand in favor of one finger over my lips. "Like I said before: just relax."

I wanted to yell, but nothing came. In a final attempt to save myself, my arm stretched towards the end of the bed where the dagger was hidden. I wouldn't actually hurt him, just let him know that I could defend myself. I couldn't reach it though. I looked up at him in horror, realizing there was no escape. Anything I could have said was swallowed as he kissed me with a brutal amount of force for someone who was not fighting back. I did not respond, only laid there and let his lips do as they pleased.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked. I cried out, and he used the advantage to shove his tongue into my mouth. I could feel tears welling up, but didn't cry.

He yanked harder, pulling my head away. He was glaring at me malevolently with a glint of hate-filled lust. "Kiss me back," he growled, forcing his mouth back onto mine. When I didn't, he backhanded me. I yelled again, but that just caused another slap. "Shut up, and do as I say!"

This time when his lips smothered mine, I timidly moved my lips with his. It felt wrong, and all I wanted was to scratch his eyes out. He moved his tongue against mine, trying to entice a reaction. I didn't know what to do, having never done anything like this. He grew impatient, and ground his hips into mine forcibly. I whimpered, and moved my tongue experimentally, trying to decide what I should do.

Then his weight was gone, and I was alone on the bed. I scrambled towards the wall, yanking the blankets with me. He was standing there at the side again, grinning like a fool. I wanted to slit his throat in that moment, and never in my life had I truly wished to kill someone before then.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked pathetically. He laughed.

"Nothing yet, my darling," he said quietly. "I must wait until you are married. I will not deny my son his virgin wife, but after that…you will be mine."

"Do you care nothing for your son?" I spat. "What do you think it will do to him to know that you bed his wife?"

"He will not know," he replied simply. And then he was sneering. "No one will know except you and me. Or you will die. Do I make myself clear?" I nodded choppily, holding back the torrent of tears I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing. He was smirking again when he left.

I laid back down, curling into a ball on my side as I started to sob. I could still taste him, and it sickened me. My lips ached from the assault, and I could still feel his body over top of mine, his fingers in my hair…

I reached out over the bed, pulled out the dagger Tristan gave me, and held it in the open palm of my hand. It shone in the moonlight, feeling like a reminder that I wasn't alone. I ran over the memory of when he gave it to me, after we stayed the whole night in front of the gardenias. He'd stood so close, and then shoved it into my hand. The thought of him so close made the fear ebb, and when I imagined him taking me into his arms like I'd wished he would, erasing any distance between us, it vanished altogether. My eyelids drooped, but my fingers curled around the dagger in my hand as I drifted off to sleep.

**So no Tristan/Xanthe interaction, really. Just some Alecto/Xanthe and Marius being a man-slut. I hate that man. My mom says that shooting him was the only thing Guinevere did right for the whole movie, haha.**

**So I've been thinking I might make an attempt at writing a sex scene for this one. I'd change the rating, of course, but I might attempt it. Oh, and don't worry it wouldn't be a Marius/Xanthe one! That wouldn't be a sex scene, that would be a rape scene, haha.**

**I'm not sure yet though. Let me know what you guys think in your review! (That is my subtle hint telling you to review. Please? :3 I offer my love in return.)**


	9. My Beautiful Rescue

**Okay I'm going to get right to the announcement.**

**I'm going to be extremely busy until the end of this month, so I've had to make some sacrifices. Bottom line: writing has had to be cut down. So I'm putting this on hiatus only until I've finished Your Tears Are Empty, which is when I'll start posting chapters. It only has nine chapters left, so it won't be that long. :P**

**I'm really sorry. It'll probably only be two weeks (if not less) so not that long. Until then, review! Let me know how much you hate me for making you wait, haha.**

_"I've been jumping from the tops of buildings for the thrill of the fall, ignoring sound advice and any thought of consequence. My bones are shattered. My pride is shattered, and in the midst of this self-inflicted pain, I can see my beautiful rescue. I'm falling more in love with every single word I withhold. I'm falling more in love with every single word you say. I'm falling head over heels for you. I've been dancing on the tops of buildings. At the top of my lungs, I'm singing you a song. Don't you leave me alone. My bones were shattered. My pride lay shattered. Well, I'll trample my pride, and tell the whole world to dance with me. I'm crying out. Wash my hands, these bloody hands, lord. Open my mouth, and I'll sing."-This Providence_

"Wake up, Xanthe! Time to greet your day with open arms!"

My eyes opened wearily as Marisa paraded through my room to prepare my bath and pick out my clothes. I glowered at the amount of sunlight assaulting my eyes, and rolled onto my back. Something poked me sharply in my abdomen, and I hissed as I sat up. I thought it must be some sort of biting insect in my bed until I saw that it was the dagger. I picked it up, remembering falling asleep with it in my hands. It had provided comfort when I needed it the most. I put it back under the bed, and then looked at the gardenia. I frowned at the sight of its brown petals, dead from lack of water. The maids would most likely clear it away when they came to clean later.

When my bath was filled, I scrubbed myself clean, particularly my hair and lips, like I was trying to erase excess Marius from my person. I didn't know if it was my traumatized imagination or not, but I could still taste him. I sat down in front of the vanity, and looked at my face. I was glad there were no marks from him slapping me. I had expected them from the amount of force he used. It made me wonder of Fulcinia, and if he had perfected that technique on her.

Marisa noticed the obvious melancholy I was experiencing as she knotted my hair on the top of my head, and asked, "What's on your mind, my friend?"

I stared at my own eyes, a darker green at the moment. What was it that made Marius covet me, Alecto blush when I smile, but made Tristan run?

"Contemplating the differences between men," I replied critically. She scoffed.

"What a silly thing to worry yourself over!" she chastised. "There are two types of men: pigs and gentlemen. The pigs can act like gentlemen, but do not be fooled. And occasionally a man acts like a pig, but really has a good heart, only God knows why." She poked my cheek with the end of my brush before sitting it back on the surface of the vanity. "I would think a girl like you could easily see through any such facades."

I stood, and removed my robe so that I could pull the dress on. "You make me sound like an old crone with too much life experience."

She smiled as she held out a pale yellow dress for me to step into. "You are wise beyond your years, anyone can see that."

"I am not," I protested. She rolled her eyes as she pulled it over my shoulder, but did not answer. There were ties in the front of the soft dress that she pulled on to tighten it. I much preferred the one I wore yesterday.

I walked to the hall myself for breakfast, and was surprised that only two people were in there already. To my regret, it was only Tristan and Marius. The lord was eying the knight contemplatively, swirling his pointer finger around the rim of his goblet thoughtfully. Tristan was ignoring him, glaring blandly at the opposite wall. They looked up at my entrance. I bowed my head to them both in greeting, taking my usual spot three seats down from the head of the table. Tristan sat on the other side, two seats down. It looked like he would continue this avoidance.

"I trust you slept well," Marius said. My eyes met his, and his lip curled into an evil grin. He was taunting me, initiating the memories from his violation last night. I could feel the redness rising up in my cheeks, not from chagrin, but anger. I wanted to crack that pretty gold goblet right over that fat head of his and watch him while he bled out.

"Actually, I did not," I said through gritted teeth. "I had nightmares of a presence in my room. He tried to act like a real man, but had the honor of a common barbarian."

Marius's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and I turned away satisfactorily. No matter what he tried, he would not break me down. I would allow no one to cow me without fighting. All my life I'd let people toss me around like an old dress, passed down from person to person once I was no longer of use. Those times were gone.

The sudden bravery made me smile to myself, and I raised my head confidently. My mood was ruined when I caught Tristan's eye. His rejection swarmed in the pit of my stomach, extinguishing the courage like a candle flame. He didn't look angry or disgusted. In fact, he didn't look like he was thinking much of anything, but that was his usual. However, his eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement, and I liked to think that whatever shone in those golden orbs was invisible to everyone except me.

For the rest of the morning meal I was asked many times how I fared. I told them all I was feeling much better, keeping my voice low and trying to be unassuming. I did not enjoy being the center of attention in any situation. I was sitting next to Bors who regaled me with tales of his lover, Vanora, and their eight bastard children. I decided I liked this man. He pretended that his family back home meant little to him, when, in reality, it was blatantly obvious that he would be devastated if he didn't have anyone to go home to.

"My 'Nora would love you," he told me suddenly. "She likes people who don't talk much, that way she can just run her trap without interruption."

"I shall take that as a compliment, Sir Bors," I replied scathingly. He chuckled.

A hand touched mine atop the table, and I turned to Alecto. He cast his eyes down shyly, and took his hand back. "You are to be in your room directly after lunch to see your dress," he informed me. "Then you will come with me to see to some other plans."

I nodded, and he left. Bors snorted, and I turned back to raise an eyebrow at him.

"You let that pup boss you around like that, and he'll get the wrong idea," he said.

"He's not bossing me around," I protested. "He's just letting me know what I must do today."

He stared at me poignantly, so I thought over Alecto's statement. It did sound more like an order now that it was brought to my attention, but I doubt he meant it that way. Alecto was not his father, and never would be.

"Princess!" Gawain barked. I returned to the present. The only ones left at the table were Gawain, Galahad, Lancelot, and Bors. I blinked, realizing I had been abandoned with the knights. Tristan's absence was entirely too conspicuous.

"Come on," Gawain continued. "We're going to practice archery."

"Oh, I should not. I have to-"

"Nonsense," Lancelot said, grabbing me under both of my arms and hauling me to my feet. "Let's go."

Despite my protests, Galahad and Lancelot both grabbed one of my wrists and proceeded to pull me to the archery grounds just on the outskirts of the estate, in the beginnings of the forest. I dug my heels into the ground, but my sandals just slid along. I glanced around frantically, but no one seemed to find it odd that this was going on. They had brought their weapons with them this morning, so there weren't any stops during which I could have escaped.

When we made it outside, my struggling feet found better purchase in the earth. I pulled on my arms to free them whilst Lancelot and Galahad were distracted, and earned my freedom. I opened my mouth to tell them I was going back inside, but a shriek came out instead when Gawain chucked me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and walked on.

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU HEATHEN!" I yelled, slamming my fists against his back. He didn't even seem to feel it. "I WILL NOT BE MANHANDLED! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

I was set back on my feet at the edge of the archery enclosure, and I raised my arm to smack the blond knight in the face. He caught my wrist easily, grinning, and did the same with the other when I tried to use my unbound hand. He smiled at me, both of my wrists in a loose grip.

"Oh, come on, princess," he said casually. "Just lighten up for once. It's just archery and good company."

"And the smell of your perfume drowns out Bors's stench," Galahad added cheekily, earning him a smack upside the head.

I huffed, and pulled my arms back. I found the cleanest patch of ground possible, and sat down heavily with my arms crossed.

"She's pouting," Bors observed. He was looking right at me, but when he loosed his arrow, it hit the bull's eye of the target. I raised my eyebrows, impressed at his skill.

Lancelot snorted, three arrows nocked at once. He let them go, and they too landed perfectly in the center of the target. They continued like that, teasing each other without relenting. I laughed at some of their ribbing, raised my eyebrows at others, and even blushed at some of the lewder jokes made by Bors. He was an exceedingly inappropriate man with a sharp tongue.

Gawain walked up to the target and wrenched his arrows from it with a sharp tug. He walked back to his spot, dropped them at his feet, and then beckoned to me. "Come."

"What?" I asked.

"Come here."

"Why?"

"I'm going to teach you to shoot."

I gasped. "No!"

"Yes."

"I cannot."

"You can."

"Gawain!"

"Princess."

"Gawain!"

"Lancelot," Lancelot jumped in, pointing to himself. Galahad snorted, loosing yet another arrow directly into the middle of the target.

"Every lady should know how to defend herself," Gawain said firmly. He pointed his bow at me threateningly. "I _will_, as you said, 'manhandle' you again. Now get over here."

I stood slowly, and then scurried to him like a frightened mouse with my head down. Once I was standing in front of him, he walked away. I glared at his mop of dirty hair.

"Why did you make me get up if you planned to just walk away?" I snapped.

He walked over to the public bows that were always kept here, and pulled the string on one, testing it. He set it down, opting for a smaller one. He tested it, and came back, handing it over.

"Sarmatian bows would be much too difficult for you to operate," he explained.

I held onto the weapon, noting the unfamiliar feel of it against the skin of my hand. It felt strange to hold a weapon in my hand. The most dangerous thing I touched all day was my comb. Except for recently when I found myself touching a dagger more and more. How the tables have turned.

Gawain suddenly grabbed my arms and started to position me. I did not protest, not even when his hands were dangerously low on my hips. I might have if I had seen anything shifty in his eyes, but he just looked focused, concentrating on teaching instead of any inappropriate thoughts.

"Open your legs wider," he commanded. I did it, face flaming at the phrase. Galahad cackled immaturely, and Gawain shot him an evil look.

"Now," the blond knight continued, "keep your shoulders back and your elbows up. Why is it so far away from your face? Bring it in. Chin up too. Now pull back on the string."

I pulled my arm back as hard as I could. It was more difficult than I expected, and my hand and arm protested against it. Gawain picked up an arrow, and slid it into my grip, adjusting both of my hands.

"Look down the length of the arrow," he commanded. I did, keeping my arms straight. "Aim for the center. When you're ready, let all of your fingers go at once. Don't hesitate."

I lined the tip of the arrow up with the bull's eye in my line of sight, took a deep breath, and let go. The arrow dropped to the ground at my feet. I frowned at it.

"Better than I expected," Gawain said, picking it up and rearranging it. "The first time I tried, I punched myself in the chest and broke the arrow."

I giggled, and he lined up my stance again. This time when I let go, the arrow flew about three inches ahead of me before it hit the ground.

"Well, looks like you're getting places!" Galahad exclaimed as he walked by, clapping me so hard on the shoulder that I stumbled forwards a few steps.

For the rest of the time until lunch, I practiced with Gawain. I didn't improve any beyond those three inches, but he said that normal. It would take a few days until it actually went any distance, and then weeks until I actually hit the target. I had to remind myself that we didn't have weeks. They'd all be gone in only days. I decided that I might continue practicing on my own though. I wouldn't have much of anything else to do once the wedding passed anyway.

I was a bit sweaty when I arrived at lunch with Gawain and Lancelot. Fulcinia acknowledged this with a sniff of disapproval, but Alecto didn't even seem to notice. He kept leaning over, trying to engage me in conversation, only to be cut off by his father talking to him or one of the knights talking to me. The only ones who didn't speak to me were Arthur, because he had been commandeered by the senator, and Tristan, because he was ignoring me. I did my best to act like it didn't effect me, but every few minutes I would glance at him. He stayed quiet the whole time, focusing on eating. After fifteen minutes, I became quiet as well, only answering question with a 'yes' or 'no' if I could manage it.

"Xanthe, we must go," Alecto said, cutting Lancelot off in the middle of a story he was telling me about how he dressed Galahad up in a dress once when he was drunk and left him in the middle of the town square.

I stifled my laughter, and nodded. "You're going to have to regale me with the rest later," I told Lancelot, glancing at Galahad who hadn't heard that he was telling the story.

"Oh, I will," he promised, grinning evilly.

I followed Alecto and Fulcinia to my room. Alecto waited outside while Fulcinia and I went in. Marisa was standing with the helpers of the seamstress, and frowned when she saw how uncleanly I was.

"Dress," the seamstress snapped. The helpers pulled my dress off of me with their usual gusto, and then put my wedding dress on. They used two silver clips on each shoulder to hold up the thin-strapped material, and a silver belt-like wrap with beaded detail was pulled around my ribcage, just under my breasts to make my waist look smaller. It was surprisingly comfortable, except for the belt.

"What do you think?" the seamstress asked smugly, like she already knew.

"It is…beautiful," Fulcinia said. She took my hand, and led me in front of the mirror in my room. My breath got caught in my throat.

The material was soft and loose, gently flowing around me in the breeze entering from the balcony. The clips and belt matched, and had Roman symbols on them (I did not know exactly what they meant). The belt was thin except for in the very middle where there was a bigger, square patch. I touched it lightly, almost reverently. The neckline dipped low between my breasts, meeting the square of the belt. The bottom swept the ground, hiding my feet from view. The effect was breathtaking. I'd never worn anything so lovely. For a moment, I felt…beautiful.

"Absolutely stunning," Fulcinia gushed, touching my shoulder fondly.

I smiled at the seamstress. "I think you may have outdone yourself."

"Please, child, I have done much better than this," she said stiffly. She smiled though, the first true one I'd seen from her.

"I will have your payment sent over tomorrow," Fulcinia said. The seamstress nodded, jerked her hand towards her helpers, and they all left the room. Fulcinia told Marisa to go to, and then we were alone.

I stared at myself, head cocked to the side, and smoothed my hands from my waist down to my hips. It seemed impossible that it was really me standing there, and I felt like if I touched myself it would make it more real.

"My son is lucky," Fulcinia said, and I met her eyes in the reflection.

"I don't think so," I admitted quietly. "He might have been able to love if not for me."

"Alecto would have been forced into a political marriage if you had not arrived," she explained. "Most likely the spoiled daughter of a noble with plenty of land and assets. It would have been years down the road, and she would have been younger than he. My son does not need to marry into a wealthy family. He has more than enough to inherit from my husband, so it would have been obsolete. What he truly needs is an intelligent woman who can understand the hypocrisy of this world as he does. A political union would not have fulfilled that." She took a step back as she went to leave, but kept eye contact as she said, "And I think he may have found love easier than you thought."

I raised my eyebrows in an inaudible question, but she didn't see, for she was already out of the room.

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts, and I really hope everyone continues to read this! (:**

**Oh, and I'm putting up a picture of Xanthe's wedding dress on my Tumblr! Check it out if you want. :D**

**I'll be seeing you (figuratively) in two weeks!**


	10. Life and the Girl

**I'm baaaaack! Are you excited? Of course you are!...I hope.**

**Annnnyway, this story will go back to normal updates now that I'm finished with the busiest part of my year. I hope my readers forgive me for my absence, and this makes up for it! :D**

_"Here's the truth: this may be too soon. 'Cause you can't fight a feeling you know is right when you feel it too. Why can't we just open up? Put your arms around me. It feels so right when your leg's touching mine. Paid for a quarter, this night is half over. Why can't we just feel the same? I will be there for everything. And I hope you know I feel this way 'cause I'm never gonna leave. No, I'm never gonna leave this place."-Lights Out Dancing_

I spent the rest of the day absorbed in wedding plans I truly wasn't concerned about. Alecto and I sat there silently while Marius and Fulcinia put their whole attentions into it. I thought most of it was ridiculous. They asked what color the table cloths at the reception we wanted. Were table cloths really such a serious endeavor that it was necessary for four people to worry over them for nearly an hour? I thought not. The redundancy of most of the things they tried to control was astounding. The guest list was incredibly long, filled with names of influential Roman people I had no wish to associate with. I had wondered if the pope would attend. Alecto was one of his godchildren, and I knew they were rather close. But when I asked, Alecto said that he had to decline due to poor health. He wished to meet me though. I felt light-headed at the prospect of one of the most powerful men in Rome having an interest in knowing me.

If it had been my choice, I would have had an uncomplicated wedding. No intense planning, and probably just on the beach. I would find a white dress instead of having one fashioned for me, have only people truly close to me there, and a simple reception afterwards. Nothing over the top.

When Alecto escorted me to supper, I was exhausted and in no mood for anything except sleep. A headache pulsed around my eyes, and I wanted some tea from Marisa. But when I sat down at the table and the knights began to talk, I found my headache ebbing away in place of amusement. The only one who didn't partake in conversation was Tristan. He sat broodily next to Dagonet in the last seat, glaring at everyone through his hair.

"So she screams at the top of her lungs, and her husband chases after him with a pitchfork until he finally climbs up on the roof of the tavern! No one came to help him for three hours, so he had to stand there like a beacon in a pink dress the whole time," Lancelot gasped between his laughter as he finished the story of Galahad in his dress. Halfway through, the young knight had realized what story was being told, and was now staring sourly at Lancelot from his seat next to me.

"Ha-ha," he said bemusedly. "Should I tell her the story about that redhead at the wall-"

Lancelot's smirk fell, and he looked nervous. "Galahad, don't-"

"And you were so drunk that you didn't notice-"

"Don't tell her-"

"That she wasn't actually a girl until you had her back in your room with her dress around her ankles," Galahad finished with a triumphant smirk. I was giggling uncontrollably, face red from the content of the story. It was technically not very polite to tell these stories in front of ladies, but I enjoyed them more than I cared to admit.

"You swore," Lancelot growled, cheeks glowing red with anger. "I'll see you on the sparring ground tomorrow."

"I'll be the attractive one with the sword," Galahad said, undaunted at the thought of dueling his second-in-command.

Gawain was snorting with laughter from his chair next to Lancelot, thoroughly enjoying the exchange between his friends.

"You're a bit vain, Galahad," I pointed out.

He scoffed disbelievingly. "Compared to Lancelot even Romans are humble," he grumbled.

Lancelot shrugged. "I cannot help that I'm the most devilishly handsome thing to ever walk the earth."

Galahad gestured at him with a do-you-see-what-I-mean look. I smiled, and pushed his hand back down chastisingly. He mumbled to himself broodily as he took a drink from his goblet.

"So," Secondus proclaimed loudly, catching the attention of everyone at the table, "how was the wedding planning today? Any problems at all? I would be honored to help if anything goes wrong. I have several connections I could put to good use in Rome."

Lancelot looked thoroughly aggravated at the man's words, and drank deeply from his goblet in what I guessed was an attempt to keep himself from saying anything bitingly in reply. Secondus was looking between Fulcinia and I expectantly. I didn't know much about the planning really, even though I'd been there during it. The opinion of the bride and groom didn't seem to matter much to Marius and Fulcinia, that's why I knew I wasn't going to be the one to have to answer the question.

"No problems, but thank you for your generous offer," Fulcinia responded. "All we have left to do is for Xanthe to pick out flowers for her bouquet."

"Ah," Secondus said, turning his patronizing eyes to me. "Roses, I assume?"

"Actually," I said quietly, "I was thinking gardenias."

I wasn't actually considering gardenias until that moment. I had no interest in what flowers I held, but it felt like the right thing to say. I could feel Tristan's gaze burning holes into the back of my head, but I knew if I looked at him it would be too obvious.

"No, no, no," Secondus said, waving his hand to dismiss my words, "all wrong."

"Wrong?" I asked. I didn't know it was possible to be wrong in a matter of opinion.

"For your wedding, all wrong," he insisted. "My wife has a bit of a flower fetish. They're all over the bloody house, and she knows the meanings of every single one of them." He took a deep swig of wine, and then continued sarcastically, "_Fortunately_, she feels the need to tell me what each and every one symbolizes. The flower symbolizing 'secret love' would not be appropriate for a wedding."

Secret love? My saliva seem to get stuck in my throat, and I started to choke, spluttering and coughing like an idiot. Alecto lightly patted my back, but it wasn't helping. Galahad reached over and smacked me between the shoulder blades, hard. I coughed once more, and then sat back in my chair. I know I must have looked like a startled deer, but that proclamation blindsided me. Marisa said they symbolized someone telling you they thought you were lovely, nothing about secret love!

I couldn't resist looking over at Tristan, but he wasn't in his chair. I discreetly observed the rest of the room, but he was gone. I heard the door open behind me, and turned just in time to see him shut the door behind him as he left the dining hall.

/\/\/\/\/\

Marisa was brushing out my hair before bed. She was being unusually silent again, and there were dark circles under her eyes. I couldn't remember her ever being so withdrawn, and her strange behavior made me forget to accuse her of treachery because of the flower incident at supper.

"Is there something wrong, Marisa?" I asked her. She ran the brush through my hair five more times before she spoke.

"No," she deadpanned.

I raised an eyebrow. She set the brush down, and cleared her throat. I noticed that her eyes were getting watery, and became alarmed. I stood from the chair I'd been sitting in, and fixed her with a penetrating look, knowing she would cave.

She tried to avoid my eyes, but when the first tear fell, she finally looked at me. "I'm pregnant," she whispered.

I gasped, and without even thinking twice about it, pulled her into a hug. She hugged me back, and started to cry into my shoulder. I gently rubbed her back while she sobbed, waiting for her to get it all out before I asked questions.

It was probably twenty minutes before she stopped shaking and pulled away. She wiped her tears away, cheeks reddening.

"I look like such a fool," she said in a weak attempt at joking.

"No, you do not," I said firmly. "It's completely understandable."

She shook her head, but didn't protest. I steered her to the sofa, and forced her to sit across from me. I waited until she was composed, and then asked, "Who is the father?"

She sighed shakily. "His name is Ganis," she answered. "He is one of the serfs."

I tried not to show any outward reaction, but I was surprised. I didn't know she had any contact with the serfs outside of the wall. I hadn't even seen them up close since I'd first come here, and that had only been a fleeting glance through a carriage window.

"I did not think…I never knew that you were friendly with any of the serfs," I admitted.

"He is one of the delegates that reports to Marius, so I used to have to go to the village to let them know when their meetings would be," she explained. "He was always so sweet to me, and he's so honest and he does everything he can to help others." She smiled to herself. "I never had a chance."

"Will he take responsibility?" I asked.

Her smile disappeared. "That is the problem. He became too attached to me, and I never planned on settling down. I told him last week that I didn't want to see him again."

I absorbed that, noting the sadness in her eyes. She was fiddling with a loose thread on her skirt, and her frown deepened.

"You have to tell him," I told her, sensing what she was thinking.

"Will it make any difference?" she asked. "He probably hates me because I left him. He will not want this bastard." She touched her stomach gently, almost reverently.

"It is his child, and he has the right to know," I responded. "And if he is as genuine as you said, then it won't matter what happened between you two. The baby is what matters now." I paused, and then smiled. "Plus, you are clearly in love with him."

Her eyes flicked to me, and her mouth gaped open like a fish. "I am not!"

"You cannot lie to me," I laughed. "It's written all over your face."

She smacked my shoulder jokingly, trying to fight her smile. "Will you stop?"

I giggled. "No. Now tomorrow you are going to go to Ganis and tell him, understood?"

She glared, but was smiling. "Fine."

"Good," I said. "Now get going, I'm tired."

She rolled her eyes, but went to pull down my blankets so I could get into bed. We said our good nights, and then I was alone in bed.

I waited for only about ten minutes before I slipped back out, and started my trek to the garden. Ever since he'd abandoned the the dining hall, all I could think of was getting to the garden. I knew he would be there. He always was.

When I arrived, he was waiting, sure enough. His gaze was directed at the full moon, and I stood shoulder to shoulder, joining him in gazing at it. It truly was beautiful tonight, even seeming closer than normal. The silver light cast long shadows across the ground, and there was not even a breeze rolling through the trees. He was warm beside me in the cool air, and I wanted to reach out to him. I might have if he hadn't been ignoring me since my embarrassing confession while inebriated.

"You have been avoiding me," I said bluntly. I turned to him, but he was like a statue. The only thing that indicated that he was living was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out. "Why?"

"Many reasons," he responded. I blushed in embarrassment. He wasn't going to lie or even try to hide the fact that he'd been avoiding me. I must have been a serious burden to him for him to not even attempt it.

"Oh," I said stupidly, swallowing around the lump in my throat with difficulty. I thought about leaving, but I had so many questions.

"Is it because I am so young?" I asked. He looked down at me with a small crease between his eyebrows. "Or…is it because I was a servant?"

"I don't care about those things," he said lowly.

I nodded, looking at his boots instead. His eyes made me nervous, and that made it more likely that I would spew something embarrassing. I suppose he just wasn't interested in me at all beyond the odd sort-of friendship we had now. What was it though that made me so undesirable to him? Was it the strange color of my hair or was it possibly too obvious that all I wanted was to throw myself into his arms and stay there for the rest of my life? I was done being polite. I needed to know.

"Then what is it?" I asked. "Is there something wrong with the way I look? Do I annoy you? No, don't answer that. I know I do. I mean, listen to me. I'm babbling, and you probably cannot wait to get away from me. I should…"

The rest of my words died out before I uttered them. Tristan turned to me while I rambled, looking down impassively while I continued to make a fool of myself. But when his fingertips ran over my bottom lip, I lost my train of thought. Actually, I forgot how to think. Did I ever know how to breathe?

"There is nothing wrong with you," he said, voice sending shivers all down my spine.

"Then why?" I whispered. It occurred to me that he might have no idea what I was talking about, but at the same time something in my gut was telling me he felt everything I did and knew what I would say before I even finished my sentences.

"You are getting married," he responded. His hand held my chin so I couldn't look away, and his thumb gently ran over my cheek. "He is wealthy, and will inherit all of this land. I am a knight with no money to my name. I have nothing to offer you."

I shook my head, and his hand dropped away from my face. "That is not true," I insisted.

"It is."

I felt the tears welling up even though I didn't know why his words upset me so much. How could he not see all that I could? As far as I was concerned, all the inheritance in the world couldn't make me happy if I didn't have him. Alecto was the one who could offer me nothing.

"You have this," I whispered, pressing my hand on his chest, directly over his heart. His eyes closed when his hands encased mine, keeping it there against him. I could feel how calm every beat was beneath his skin.

"I cannot give you anything you want," he said suddenly, letting go of my hand.

"_You_ are what I want," I said. I expected him to run after that declaration, just like he had the last time I'd let loose my feelings on him. But he didn't. He took a step closer, and leaned down. I thought he was going to kiss me, but my eyes stayed wide open. He moved at the last minute, and swooped around to the left. His lips pressed gently to the curve where my neck and collar bone met. I was trembling when he pulled away.

"I can't," he said regretfully, taking a step back. I fought the urge to chase him, not wanting to appear as vulnerable as I was.

"You can," I hissed. "You're just choosing not to."

"I will not condemn you," he said as he continued to back up. "You don't know what you ask for."

"I do," I persisted, frustration bubbling up.

"Go to bed, Xanthe," he said quietly just before he disappeared into the darkness.

I watched the place where he vanished, unable to locate my legs. I imagined a lot of outcomes to this situation, but I never imagined he would feel the same way and then leave me here. I suppose I should have known it would be impossible to predict an action from Tristan.

I turned around, and almost stepped on a gardenia lying in the middle of the path. I leaned over and picked it up. It was sitting a few feet from the bush, but there was no wind to have put it there. As I walked back to my room, I thought nothing of the odd position of the flower on the path, like someone laid it there purposefully for me to find. I didn't even notice the way the stem was severed perfectly, like it had been cut with a knife…

**So we finally get some Tristan/Xanthe interaction...and Tristan ruins it. Ugh. I know, I'm mad too. But don't worry, this isn't over yet! In fact, this is the halfway point. Eighteen chapters, my friends. :)**

**I bet that Ganis's role in this surprised you. It surprised me too. I was writing, and it just flowed right from the keyboard. I was like, "Whoa, good idea, me!" Haha, yes, I talk to myself.**

**Anyway, thank you all so much for the reviews and alerts while I was gone! It means a whole lot to me that you guys would keep faith in me while I was struggling. I really hope this can live up to the praise I get for it.**


	11. The Fragile

**My loves! I hope that all of you are having good weeks so far. :) Mine's been average. The good parts are outweighing the bad at least.**

**So I just want to let everyone know that I am now a beta! For those of you who are writing anything you need help with, feel free to check out my beta profile and PM me! I'm happy to help. :)**

_"She shines in a world full of ugliness. She matters when everything is meaningless. Fragile. She doesn't see her beauty. She tries to get away. Sometimes it's just that nothing seems worth saving. I can't watch her slip away. I won't let you fall apart. She reads the minds of all the people as they pass her by, hoping someone will see. If I could fix myself I'd…but it's too late for me. I won't let you fall apart. We'll find the perfect place to go where we can run and hide. I'll build a wall, and we can keep them on the other side. But they keep waiting, and picking and picking and picking. It's something I have to do. I was there too. Before anything else, I was like you."-Nine Inch Nails_

The next day was a blur. I barely had any time to myself. The plans went into full force, and I spent all day with Fulcinia and Alecto. The servants were in a frenzy, so I didn't even have any time to speak to Marisa. They had to prepare the rooms for the wedding guests who would be arriving in two days, most of which were high on the Roman social hierarchy. Everything had to be perfect. Only when I was in bed that night did I really get a chance to think of Tristan, wondering what he'd spent his day doing. I had only been able to glimpse him at the day and night meals before I was whisked off to something else. He looked the same as usual: intensely focused yet bored at the same time. There was no trace that last night he'd admitted his feelings and then rejected mine, which still made no sense to me.

The morning after that, Marisa running into my room like a startled horse roused me from my dreams. I watched her frantically search my closet and pull out a dress.

"No time to talk this morning, precious," she said, pulling me from my bed and dragging me to the stool so she could fix my hair. "I've got so much to do that I nearly forgot to wake you up at all."

She brushed my hair quickly, and then fastened it back so that it was out of my eyes with two golden clips. The dress she put on me was looser and pale blue with a golden belt to match. She fastened sandals to my feet, and practically shoved me out of the door. I was still disoriented from sleep, and just allowed her rough ministrations.

"Where am I going?" I asked stupidly, attempting to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

"You have to eat!" she exclaimed. "You do this every morning, Xanthe!"

"Right," I mumbled.

She ushered me into the dining hall where the usual boisterous conversation was going on. I yawned as I took my seat, covering my mouth when Fulcinia gave me a chastising look. Gawain was next to me, but I paid him no attention as I shoved a whole bite of bread in my mouth.

"Someone's not very happy this morning, eh, Lancelot?" Gawain said brightly.

"Not happy at all," Lancelot agreed, smirking at me. "Did someone put the wrong scent of oil in your bath, princess?"

Gawain guffawed, but I glared at them. "I am tired. I have a hundred things to do today, and I am not in the mood for your teasing."

They both held up their hands in surrender, and Bors chuckled from his seat across from Gawain. "She should become a knight! She could scare off all the Woads with her not-a-morning-person routine!"

They laughed, and I managed to crack a smile. "Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

They nodded, and Bors and Lancelot found something else to talk about. While they did, Gawain nonchalantly muttered, "Would one of those things on your mind happen to be our handsome scout?"

I bit my cheek in surprise, and rubbed the spot tenderly while I scowled at him. "You don't know what you are talking about," I hissed.

"I think I do," he argued. "It's alright. Your secret is safe with me, princess. Just…think about what you're doing."

I'd never really heard Gawain being serious before, so it surprised me to hear him being almost protective of Tristan. The fact that he thought I could be the one to hurt Tristan was almost comical considering I was the one with the heartache, and from what I could see, Tristan looked perfectly fine.

"Xanthe, we must go," Fulcinia said, standing from her chair. "The bakers have come, and we must decide which one you would like to cook for the reception."

I grumbled as I stood up, following her out of the hall with thoughts of a warm bed and my unfinished meal clouding my senses.

/\/\/\/\/\

I felt sick. I'd just spent nearly three hours testing a multitude of sweets, meats, and breads, and all I wanted to do was curl up and die. My stomach was going to explode.

Fulcinia had left me halfway through to attend to an emergency room shortage, which left even more for me to taste on my own. Some of the cooks had brought several of the most disgusting looking foods I'd ever seen, but they all looked so hopeful and took such pride in their work that I tried everything. I was regretting my kindness now. The worst part was that I had no idea which of them to choose because after awhile, everything had just seemed tasteless. If I had to do that all over again, I was seriously going to throw myself off the balcony this time.

I clutched my stomach as I walked down one of the hallways by myself. I was looking for either Marisa or my room, whichever came first. This house was too big, and I had no idea which wing I was in. Nothing even looked familiar. I had other things to do to prepare for the wedding, but all I wanted right now was a nap and a chamber pot to vomit in.

A door opened to my left. I didn't see who'd opened it before they grabbed me by my arm, and pulled me inside with them, slamming the door after me. It wasn't well-lit, but I could tell that it was a lot like the rooms I'd set the knights up in. I didn't even have to glance twice at the person to know who it was. Marius stood before me. I turned on my heel to run out of the room, but he grabbed me around the waist, and slammed me against the wall.

"None of that," he growled, pinning me with his body.

I wriggled to free myself, but he held me tighter. I turned my face away from him in one last attempt at preventing this, but he grabbed my chin and jerked me to face him. He kissed me like he did all of the other times, but this time, my mind completely shut down like it decided to reject that this was happening. I stove rigid in his grip, and no thoughts entered my mind. I was numb. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. I just stood there with my eyes open while he continued his assault on my mouth.

He finally stopped kissing me after several minutes, and stared at me with eyes that sparked with lust. I was frightened by that expression, knowing exactly what it meant. He was not going to hold himself back any longer. My biggest fear was about to become a reality. The life came back to me, and I started to fight, pushing at him with my hands as hard as I could. I opened my mouth, and let out a pathetic wail. His hand clamped down roughly over my lips.

"Don't scream," he whispered, glaring into my eyes. "I will tell them you are a witch, and that you seduced me with black magic. They believe I am of God. No one will think I lied, and you will be burned at the stake."

My eyes widened, but I made no moves to scream again. He kept his hand on my mouth though. The chubby fingers of his unoccupied hand grabbed the hem of my dress, and started to pull it up. I closed my eyes, and let out a pathetic whimpering sound.

When the fabric was hiked up to my hips, the door opened without warning, and there was a split second pause before Marius was pulled off of me none too gently. I pushed my skirts down frantically once I was free, unable to stop the tears from building up. I looked back up to see that Tristan had the shorter man pinned up against the right wall with his forearm pressed into his throat. The look on his face was murderous, and Marius tried to look outraged but couldn't keep the fear out of his eyes.

"You are not to touch her," Tristan growled in Marius's face.

"You are a guest…in my home," he gasped, trying to breathe while Tristan strangled him. "Let go of me…now." Tristan pushed harder against his neck.

"If you come near her again, I will kill you myself," Tristan said clearly. "Roman official or not. It will be easy to stage it as a Woad's doing. Am I understood?"

Marius struggled a moment longer before nodding. Tristan let go, and he nearly fell over, gasping so frantically that it sounded like panting. He left the room quickly, not bothering to recover his dignity as he scrambled around us both to the door.

Tristan turned to me, and I wiped away my tears hurriedly. I brushed down the pieces of my hair that stuck up in the back with one hand, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"Are you hurt?" he asked quietly.

"No," I whispered. "I'm…no."

Two quiet footsteps, and then his boots were in my line of vision. "Look at me."

It wasn't a request or a demand, just three whispered words that I could either deny or oblige. I chose the latter, and turned my tear-stained eyes onto him. He used his thumb to wipe the wetness on my cheeks off. I couldn't take it anymore, and wrapped both arms tightly around his waist without giving myself time to think about what the outcome might be.

I thought I would cry more, but I couldn't. Tristan was right here, and he wouldn't let anything happen to me. I clung to him, not caring that he only stood there stiffly, not touching me back. I just needed to know he wouldn't push me away. It didn't matter that he'd rejected me or that I was mortified of what he'd just witnessed. He made me feel safe.

Hesitantly, he raised his arms; the first uncertain move I'd ever seen him make. But once his arms were around my shoulders, he seemed more absolute in his decision. He kept tightening his hold until I could barely move an inch. Strangely, the constriction didn't bother me. No words were needed then. We simply embraced one another, just his presence being enough to soothe me.

I wasn't sure how long we stood there, neither of us loosening our hold on one another or moving or speaking. I realized that if anyone came in here, this would not be a good thing for them to witness. Obviously we'd already been too confident that no one would notice us because Gawain knew. The more I thought about it, there really wasn't an 'us'. He thought that he couldn't give me anything, and had rejected me. I didn't know what love was, really, but I think that's what I might be feeling for Tristan. So why was I hurting myself more by allowing this to continue? In the end, he would leave and I would be here, a married woman with a shattered heart.

I pulled away, and he let me go instantly. I searched his face, but there was nothing in his eyes that indicated he'd changed his mind. There wasn't anything in his expression at all.

"Thank you," I mumbled, turning around and rushing out of the door before I could see that he'd reached out for me.

/\/\/\/\/\

I never did get my nap. Once I left Tristan, I realized that the reason the room looked so familiar was because it was one hallway over from the rooms where the knights were, and I knew how to make my way from there. Fulcinia was in a frenzy when she saw me, and nearly dragged me to a room to help her devise a plan to see to several of the girls my age who would attend the ceremony as guests. Apparently I would have to spend the whole day with them tomorrow, which I was not looking forward to.

I feigned illness to get out of supper, not wanting to see Marius or Tristan. Well, I actually wanted to see Tristan, but that was the problem. I couldn't keep mooning after him like I was. He'd made himself clear, and I wouldn't question that anymore because there was no point to it.

Marisa was much calmer now that the day was over, and leisurely plaited my hair for bed so that it would be curly when the guests came tomorrow. I noticed the brilliant smile plastered on her face, and could think of only one explanation for it.

"You spoke to Ganis, didn't you?" I asked.

She giggled, and then bit her lip like she hadn't meant to. "Nothing gets by you, does it?" she asked.

"Well, I can guess what happened by that beautiful little grin you're wearing," I said teasingly.

Suddenly she laughed giddily, and grabbed my shoulders to spin me around and beam down at me. "He wants to marry me, Xanthe!" she exclaimed. "Can you believe it? Me, a mere maid in his governor's household! He said he loves me, and wouldn't have had any other woman! And you know what? I think I love him. I think I always did, but was just scared to admit it to myself."

Something in my heart cracked, the realization that the one I loved would never say such things to me. I smiled anyway, and stood up to hug her. "That's wonderful, Marisa. I'm so happy for you. Have you decided when to marry?"

She bit her lip nervously. "No, that's the problem. He must ask Marius permission to wed me. He won't be able to do that until the day after you are married because that is the next time he comes within the walls. I am so very anxious though! What if he says no?"

"Well, excuse my language, but…who gives a damn if he says no?" I asked incredulously.

Marisa gasped, hands over her mouth. "Xanthe! You have spent far too much time with those foul-mouthed knights!"

I laughed. "Oh, hush! I am speaking the truth! You're in love! It shouldn't matter whether you can marry or not or who tells you if you can be together. Love should be the only thing that counts in the relationship, not the word of your employer. So even if you can't marry, I will make sure you see him, even if I have to help you dig a tunnel beneath the wall!"

She pulled me into a hug that was more like a stranglehold. "Thank you so much, Xanthe! I may work for you, but you are more like a sister than my charge."

I smiled at her when she let go. "He just better treat you right, or he will have me to answer to."

She laughed. "You will not have to worry about that, I promise. But you should get some rest. You'll be up even earlier tomorrow in order to greet the guests."

I made an annoyed sound as I climbed into bed. "Don't remind me. I have to spend the whole day with Romans upper class society, kissing up to everyone."

"Oh, you'll be fine!" she said chastisingly, pulling my blankets up over me. "And if you need to escape, just say you're feeling faint. Everyone expects you to fall over again after that incident on the horse."

"You had to bring that up, didn't you?" I muttered darkly. She laughed, and called a goodnight as she left.

Once I was alone, I thought of possible ways I could help Marisa. I wondered how she would live in the maid's quarters in a room with four other women, and a baby. If she married Ganis, I assumed she would move in with him, but that would mean she'd be away from me. I was selfish enough to want to keep her on as my maid despite her being married and with child. Perhaps as a wedding gift to me, I could ask Alecto to have a new room prepared near mine where she could stay with the baby.

My own words came back to me, the philosophy about love that I'd spewed at a moment's notice. I didn't remember ever considering it, and I didn't even know if it was true. But if love was what I felt for Tristan, than it was the best thing that life could offer anyone. He made my heart want to dance in my chest, and I'd never met anyone who could make an unamused grunt sound melodic. I acknowledged that he had flaws, but they made him all the more perfect to me.

I sat up in bed. I'd told Marisa that it didn't matter who told you no because if both if two people loved each other, that was all that counted. Would I be a hypocrite if I just let Tristan let me go because he thought he wasn't good enough? The answer to that was an obvious "yes".

I was out of bed in a flurry of thrown blankets, tied my robe tightly around me, and ran as quietly as I could through the house. I'd already decided that if he wasn't there, then I would go to his room. If he wasn't in his room, then I would scour the house until I found him. I had to say this, and I had to do it now while I still had the courage.

My feet padded against the cold stone of the garden path, creating a frenzied rhythm on the ground. When I finally could see the gardenias, I was surprised to see that he was there. He turned around, not seeming at all shocked to see me. I stopped in front of him for a moment, and shook my head.

"I am not letting you do this," I said firmly. His eyebrows rose the smallest bit. "You say you feel for me, yet you tell me that just giving yourself to me is not enough. That's a lie." His eyebrows went up further. "If you felt even half as much as I do for you, then you would know that it matters not how much you have to contribute. If I was poor and clothed in rags instead of silk, you would not care for me any less, would you?" I didn't wait for an answer, only plowed on. "I don't care that you're a knight, and I don't care that I am going to be married in only a couple of days. All I know is that I am finished with being submissive, and I refuse to be a hypocrite!"

With that, I grabbed a handful of the collar of his shirt in both hands, and brought him down to kiss him full on the mouth. I kept him there for only a second before pushing him back off. I put my hands on my hips, and glared at him with my chin raised.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" I asked boldly.

He looked contemplative as he stared at me, like he was trying to make a decision based on what he saw in my eyes. I knew what he would see there: determination, expectancy…and love.

He finally took a step closer, put one hand on the back of my neck, and leaned down to press his lips back to mine. It was much gentler than I would have expected, maybe just because I was so used to feeling violated when I was kissed. He put his other hand on my lower back and brought me closer to him. I held onto his shoulders, easily keeping up with his pace. Each beat of my heart felt like an earthquake in my chest, and there was just no question about it anymore.

I was unquestionably, undoubtedly, absolutely, and perpetually in love with Tristan.

**So here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for! *dramatic music***

**I'd like to thank all of you for the reviews and alerts. I received eight, which is a record for this story. (: Thanks so much! Just know that you all have my love, and you make me impossibly happy! :'D**


	12. She's Like the Wind

**I. am. SOOOOOOOOO sorry for the long wait. I'm having so much trouble with time management that it's unreal. My last day of school is tomorrow, but I won't have time to update until Sunday or Monday. :\ I feel like I'm drowning in my own schedule. But I think it's really amazing how you guys rallied around this, haha. I received no less than five messages demanding that I continue it. :P I'm pretty sure one of them bordered on a death threat. Is it weird that I appreciated a death threat? Probably.**

**This chapter extended itself while I was writing, so I've had to add an extra one...or possibly two. I'm not sure yet. :P I'm really bad with keeping to my own amount of chapters. So this is either eighteen chapters with an epilogue or nineteen chapters with an epilogue. Hope no one minds.**

_"She's like the wind through my tree. She rides the night next to me. She leads me through the moonlight only to burn me with the sun. She's taken my heart, but she doesn't know what she's done. Feel her breath on my face, her body close to me. Can't look in her eyes. She's out of my league. Just a fool to believe I have anything she needs. She's like the wind. I look in the mirror, and all I see is a young old man with only a dream. Am I just fooling myself that she'll stop the pain? Living without her, I'd go insane."-Patrick Swayze_

When Marisa woke me up at the crack of dawn the next morning, I couldn't even get up the temper to be angry at how early it was. I couldn't feel anything except overwhelming joy, and when I sat up from bed with a smile on my face, Marisa's own faltered.

"Did you have a good dream?" she asked cautiously. Her expression led me to believe that she was questioning my sanity.

"A _fantastic_ dream," I gushed happily, leaping out of bed to go through my dresses myself. "Today is going to be great! Don't you think so, Marisa?"

A pregnant pause followed my words, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were all on Tristan, and the time we spent last night. Although most of it had been spent with our mouths unavailable for words, I'd never enjoyed being in his presence more. He didn't tell me more about himself, explain how he felt, or even speak very much at all, but I felt closer to him than ever. I couldn't believe I'd considered letting him go.

Yes, we did only have several days before I was married and he was gone, but I didn't want to think about that. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with Tristan, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

I picked a burgundy dress that was similar in shape to my wedding dress except for a sash of the same deep red that wrapped around my waist instead of a belt. I put it on myself, but Marisa came over to wrap the sash around my torso several times before tying it at my left hip.

"Since you're being so independent this morning, how do you want your hair?" she teased as I sat down on the stool in front of the mirror.

"Hmm," I mumbled, considering it as she unbraided my hair. It fell around my shoulders in large curls, unlike the usual small bit of wave I had. I separated one section of hair near my left temple, and put a silver clip in it. I braided it, and then pulled it around the back of my head to my other temple, using an identical clip to pin it down. I smiled at my reflection.

"That should do," I said cheerfully.

Marisa was gaping at me in the mirror. "What has gotten into you?" she asked. "You go to sleep normal, and you wake up ecstatic."

"Like I said, I had a good dream," I said, grinning. "There's really no reason other than that."

She made a noise of acknowledgement, but did not look convinced at all. She strapped sandals onto my feet, and we left my room. As we walked down the hallway, Marisa let me know what I would do that day.

"Your morning meal is so early because the guests are arriving earlier than expected," she explained. "Once they are here, Marius is having them placed in their rooms right away. You are to be in the foyer with Alecto to greet them. Fulcinia says to show a united front, so I'm afraid you'll have to act like you're head over heels for each other. At midday, everyone will meet in the dining hall for a meal, and then you are to entertain some of the younger ladies. Your best bet would just be to show them around the gardens, a bit of a tour. Then after supper, you are free to do what you want."

I nodded to all of that, although my smile faded some. My day would be filled with doing things I did not want to do, and it seemed like I'd only have very minimal opportunities to see Tristan. My smile was gone by the time I reached the dining hall.

Marisa left me at the door, and I entered the room alone. Bors and Gawain were the only other people not yet at the table. Fulcinia, Marius, and Secondus were deep in conversation about the plans. I saw Marius look up at me, and felt a thrill of fear at the memory of the last time I'd seen him. He acted like he hadn't noticed me, and went back to his conversation.

I sat down in my chair, and looked to my right. The smile was back instantly when Tristan was the one next to me.

"Good morning, Xanthe," Alecto said from my other side.

"Good morning," I said back, turning to flash him a quick smile before looking back at Tristan. He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, and a small smirk appeared on his lips. I cleared my throat, trying to rid myself of the obvious grin on my lips. I needed to be more subtle about this. The smile had to die down a bit, or people would wonder.

"Were you informed of your schedule?" Alecto asked.

I nodded, taking a bite out of a peach. "Yes."

"Good," he said, nodding decisively. The look on his face made me think he might want to say more, but he must have decided against it.

I was so aware of Tristan that it was almost unbearable. It seemed like the kiss had flicked a switch somewhere within me. Before, I'd been able to tell when he was near or looking at me, but now I could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest when he breathed, when his hair fluttered in the tiniest breeze, or when his eyes flickered around the room. The connection could almost be described as supernatural.

I turned my attention to my meal, occasionally glancing at Tristan and trying not to be bothered by the silence that was heavy between us. I wanted nothing more than to break it, but was trying to behave like nothing was different. Sometimes we would meet eyes or he would already be looking when my eyes sought him out. We were the only two not enrapt in conversation, so we weren't taken much notice of.

"Knights," Arthur said suddenly, catching the attention of everyone, "Lady Xanthe and the other Roman ladies are to have two guards today, just in case the Woads decide to target them. Who would like to volunteer?"

"I will," Tristan said lowly in the following pause. Everyone turned to him, and I gave a little cough to disguise my excited giggle. Everyone besides me looked surprised, but Arthur took it in stride.

"Lancelot, will you accompany Tristan?" he asked. Lancelot nodded, his own smirk forming, most likely from the idea of escorting a group of young women around all day.

"Xanthe," Fulcinia said sternly, "where is your ring?"

I looked down at my finger even though I knew it wouldn't be there. I'd been given a ring to signify my betrothal to Alecto, but the day after it had been given to me, I had not worn it. The gold felt unnatural on my finger, a symbol of love that wasn't real, so I hadn't put it on. No one had made any comment about its absence until now.

"You must wear it," she continued. "Go fetch it before we greet the guests."

I stood, and hurried to the hallway. Servants ran by me like frightened rabbits, attempting to finish last minute preparations. When I walked through the foyer, the main doors were opened to the cool morning air, and there were guards lined on either side of the pathway from the doors to the gates, waiting for the first guests to arrive.

Only several important Romans would actually be staying at the estate. Most would come and go on the day of the ceremony. As I thought on it now, I realized that I didn't want these days to go by fast now. I had no desire to wish away the little bit of time that Tristan and I had together. I would have this betrothal last for a decade if it meant that Tristan could stay with us that whole time.

When I arrived at my rooms, I opened the door, and quickly began to search through the wooden box that held all of my jewelry. It wasn't in the section with the rings, so I quickly searched the rest until I discovered it lying in its own corner. I slipped the small gold band onto my left ring finger, and turned to leave.

I nearly shrieked when there was someone standing there, but their hand over my mouth turned it into a squeak. The hand was gentle on my face, and I relaxed into it immediately when I could feel the steady beat of my heart within my chest.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Tristan chastisingly, taking his hand away from my mouth, but keeping it locked between my own.

He smirked lightly, like he was truly proud of himself for this little excursion. I tried to remain annoyed, but the way his eyes sparkled down at mine made it impossible. When he ducked down to kiss me, I gladly returned the gesture, wrapping my arms around his neck, and leaning into him. His lips were so enticing on mine, making it impossible to want anything besides this moment.

He pulled away first, to my aggravation. He touched the annoyed crease between my eyebrows, forcing it to smooth down.

"I'll be with you all day," he reminded me. That brought the smile back, and I kissed him once more.

"Make sure no one sees you when you leave," I said before shutting the door.

I returned to the dining hall, feeling like the weight of the ring on my finger was entirely too heavy for the small metal circle that it was. I suppose the symbolism behind it was what made it heavy to me, the reminder that I could never fully belong to the man I truly loved. Marius stood when he saw me enter the room.

"We will go to the entrance hall now," he said. The others followed his example.

I took Alecto's offered arm, and followed Marius, Fulcinia, and Secondus to the entrance hall. I could hear the knights walking behind us. Arthur would be with Secondus and Marius, entertaining the men, and I assumed the others would be stationed around the house as extra security. Many important Romans would attend the ceremony, so we were an easy target for the surrounding Woad colonies.

I glanced behind me just as Tristan blended seamlessly into the group of knights. The only one that noticed was Galahad, who gave him a strange look.

Marius arranged us in the hall strategically, placing himself, Fulcinia, and Secondus the closest to the entrance with Alecto and I just behind, arms still clasped tightly. Lancelot and Tristan were just behind me, doing their duty as my guards for the day.

I took a deep breath when I heard the sound of horse hooves bleating on the ground, preparing myself for whatever was about to come. There were nine Roman families that would be staying with us. Three of them were senatorial, four were other godchildren of the pope, one had gained favor with the pope when he was commander of the papal army, and another was a rich mercantile family who'd made their fortune in fancy jewelry pieces and well-made fabrics. Four of them had daughters that I would be accompanied by today, and one of the families had twins. Five girls I'd never met, Roman nobility, that I doubted would except me for the "lucky slave" that I was. This was going to be a long day.

I heard the sounds of many hooves bleating against the road, and stared out of the open door, past the guards, to the gates at the wall. Several heavily guarded carriages came into view, making nervousness churn in my gut. Alecto squeezed my hand that rested on his arm comfortingly, and I spared him only one fleeting glance before fixing my eyes back to the approaching Romans.

When the first carriage stopped, one of Marius's guards let down the small set of stairs from the door, and then opened it with a bow. A man with a long black beard and hair to match stepped out. He was extremely thin and gaunt, looking around the courtyard with a subdued look, like he'd never seen anything so grim in his life. A woman followed him, gray strands throughout her dark brown hair and a golden ring on each of her fingers. She turned, and said something to someone in the carriage and then took her husband's arm. A girl stepped out then, tall and thin, like her father, but with her mother's facial features and hair color. There were golden ribbons plaited in her hair, and her dress was of the finest blue silk I'd ever seen. It seemed to change colors as I watched, shifting to a deep purple. She eyed the guards with open distaste, glaring at the one who was holding the door open for her. She stepped down, and followed her parents as they made their way toward us.

Marius opened his arms in greeting, as he had when Secondus arrived with the knights. "Canaan!" he called when the man was close enough, ringing his hand so that the man's whole arm jerked up and down with it. "It is good to see you again!"

"You as well," the man said in a voice so deep that his words almost sounded like incoherent growling. He noticed Secondus, and bowed his head. "Secondus, it has been awhile."

Secondus shook his hand as well. "Too long, Canaan, too long. How is the business? Do you still trade with the east?"

Canaan nodded boredly. I suppose he was the merchant. It seemed fitting because both of the women behind him were adorned in the finest clothes, as was he. He eyed the house, taking in the decor, and ignored everyone else. "You have not come to Rome for many years," he said to Marius suddenly.

"There has been no need. The lands are plentiful, and His Holiness has not called on us. He gave us these lands, and we are grateful." To me, that sounded like boasting, as if he were trying to point out that we had more favor under the pope. The man, Canaan, either didn't catch that or didn't care about how much of the pope's favor he'd gained. He simply nodded, and then glanced at his child.

"My daughter, Vlasta," he said in introduction. He jerked his head at her, and she stepped forward, sinking into an appropriate curtsey.

"The Lord has blessed you with a beautiful child," Secondus said appreciatively. The girl smiled sickly sweet, and bowed her head in thanks. I saw her roll her eyes briefly when her chin was down.

"He has been grateful to us all," Marius added, glancing at Alecto and I. "Especially my son. Might I present his betrothed, Xanthe?"

I stepped away from Alecto, and curtsied just as Vlasta had done. When I looked up, all three of their eyes were on me, and I thought I'd done something wrong until Canaan nodded once.

"You have done well in choosing a wife Alecto," Canaan grumbled.

"Thank you," Alecto said respectfully as I reclaimed my place at his side.

Marius gestured to one of the slaves who hurriedly came to his side. "Show Canaan and his family to their rooms," he commanded the girl, who nodded in acquiescence. He turned to our guests. "You may follow my servant to your quarters."

"Thank you," Canaan said, taking his silent wife and daughter down the hall with him.

The greetings were faster after that, quick introductions followed by a servant taking them to their rooms. I seemed to forget names right after hearing them, and the names I did remember couldn't seem to be matched with a face. The smile I had plastered on was making my cheeks ache painfully, and my mind felt numb with the sounds of polite small talk. I felt like asking someone to slap me to gain some feeling back.

Once Marius instructed the guards on where to put the carriages to ensure that the Woads couldn't raid them, he and Secondus swept Alecto away to the study where they would spend the rest of the day locked up with the men, discussing war and politics. Fulcinia went to check on the status of our lunch, and I was left forgotten in the entryway.

"That was interesting," Lancelot said, still in the same spot he'd been in during the whole hour of introductions. I turned to look at him and Tristan, the only other two people left in the hall with me. "Romans are quite good at kissing each other's asses…and even better at producing daughters that resemble goddesses."

"You bed any of them, and you'll be stoned to death," Tristan reminded him gruffly. I flinched, realizing the same fate would befall Tristan if we were discovered. The only comfort I could think of was that I would have the same done to me. What a strange twist my life had taken.

"I never said anything about bedding them," Lancelot pointed out. Tristan's eyes narrowed when he continued to grin. I wasn't all too sure that I really wanted to know what that evil smile meant.

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands frustratedly. "I don't remember any of their names. What am I supposed to do when I'm supposed to be entertaining them but cannot even-"

"The one with the gold in her plait is Vlasta, the twins are Persephone and Tisiphone, Damiana has a freckle on her chin, and Lamia was the one with the silver bangles all the way up to her elbow," Lancelot reiterated. I gawked at him, mouth slightly open, but he just shrugged. "I have a good memory for women."

Tristan scoffed at that, but didn't rebuttal. Lancelot raised both eyebrows. "Well, you should remember Lamia, Tristan." Tristan just stared at him. "We were at her family's British estate to escort them to the coast." Tristan just continued to stare. "You can't tell me you don't remember them! Her mother tried to make us all pick up the carriage and carry it across the mud because she didn't want the wheels to get dirty."

Tristan shrugged. "If it is not important, I don't remember it," he responded simply.

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Well, _I _remember." The wicked smile made another appearance. "Perhaps I could use this time to gain more favor with that…lovely creature."

"Stoned to death," Tristan reminded him.

Lancelot shrugged with a smirk. "If that is true, then I should have been stoned to death many times over by now."

I heard running footsteps, and looked over my shoulder. Marisa was hurrying towards me, granting the knights a sloppy curtsy before grabbing my wrist, and running away with me in tow. I stumbled over my own feet, and didn't even get a chance to ask what was going on or say anything to the knights before she'd pulled me around the corner and up the staircase that led to my room.

"Marisa, what are you doing?" I asked confusedly, trying to wrench my wrist away from her.

"I have to help serve at the midday meal!" she explained quickly, throwing the double doors to my room open with an unladylike kick. "I have to get you dressed as fast as possible, run to talk to Ganis, and then get back here before anyone notices that I am gone."

She pulled my dress over my had unceremoniously, and ran to fetch another. "Why must you go meet Ganis?" I asked. She ran back with another gown, a lighter pink one with thin sleeves, quickly shoving it on me. Once my head was free, I continued, "Couldn't you arrange to go when you are not so pressed for time?"

She shook her head. "Not before the wedding. He works in the fields, and summer is their busiest time. I barely have an hour to sleep now that all of these wedding guests are here, so we are going to spend a lovely ten minutes together, and then we both will go back to work." Her fingers had laced the sides of my dress up with nimble fingers while she spoke, and she spun me forcibly and pushed me down onto the stool to quickly unbraid my hair and then pull it up into an elaborate bun, leaving tendrils of ringlets to frame my face.

She pulled me up to face her, and arranged the dress to her liking. With a nod, she dropped the brush back where it had been. "I must go," she said, running to the door. "I will tell you about it later!"

I shook my head a little bit. She'd left me with the impression that I'd just been standing in the middle of a windstorm: disoriented.

I began my procession to the dining hall, but stopped when I heard voices. I peeked around the corner up ahead, and saw something that I really hadn't expected. Fulcinia was there, locked in an intimate embrace with Secondus. He whispered something to her, and she smiled, murmuring something in response. They kissed then, and I felt my eyes widen. I was about to back up when Fulcinia's eyes opened and landed right on me like she'd sensed my gaze. She pushed Secondus away, and he followed her gaze. I gaped at them, and they looked back with equally horrified eyes. Secondus opened his mouth, and then closed it quickly.

"Xanthe, my dear," he said in greeting. I blinked, and he cleared his throat. "I should…go."

He hurried away, and my eyes landed on Fulcinia. She stared back, completely void of emotion. And then she said something that I never would have expected.

"If you tell anyone, I will not hesitate to inform Marius of your trysts in the garden every night with that Sarmatian."

I gasped, but she was already walking away, leaving me there with a feeling reminiscent of being kicked in the gut.

**Loves me some family drama. Yurp. So with any luck, you'll have your next chapter on Sunday. If not, Monday. I'm going to do my best to keep this off hiatus from now on!**

**But to the important things: I received **_**nine **_**reviews, which means you guys broke the record for this story! WOOOO! *happy dance* You're all amazing, and you each get a special place in my heart. :') Thank you so much for the love!**


	13. On Fire

**Hey everyone! Hope you're all well, and enjoying the beginnings of summer!**

**I'm watching Up. It's the best movie in the history of life. Love it.**

**This is dedicated to ****Fierce Lady**** for leaving a lovely review on the final chapter of YTAE, officially making my week. :D She has a story called "Lady of the Knight" that you all should definitely check out!**

**Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews and love guys! Keep it coming! I need feedback like I need air and water.**

_"They tell you where you need to go. They tell you when you need to leave. They tell you what you need to know. They tell you who you need to be, but everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard. There's so much more than empty conversation filled with empty words. You're on fire when he's near you. You're on fire when he speaks. You're on fire, burning at these mysteries. Give me one more time around. Give me one more chance to see. Give me everything you are. Give me one more chance to be near you. When everything inside me looks like everything I hate, you are the hope for change. You are the only chance I'll take. I'm on fire when you're near me. I'm on fire when you speak. I'm on fire, burning at these mysteries. I'm on the edge of me."-Switchfoot_

I was still feeling utterly odd when I went to the dining hall later. Fulcinia's words reverberated in my mind. I know that I had no right to say so, but wasn't not telling your son that his soon-to-be-wife was in love with another a betrayal on her part? I felt terrible about how all of this was treacherous towards Alecto. His father, mother, and betrothed were all deceiving him in the worst possible ways. It was so wrong. But even that thought couldn't make me give up Tristan. I was not a fool. I understood that a feeling like this, an attraction so strong, only came around once in a lifetime, if that. I was truly lucky, and I doubted I could stop even if I wanted to at this point.

When I walked in, almost everyone was already seated and involved in polite conversation. Secondus's boisterous laugh clearly stood out against the hum of other voices, and his content expression when holding Fulcinia dripped into my mind like a slow poison. I shook my head to rid myself of the image, and sat down at my usual spot next to Alecto.

I immediately decided that I did not approve of the seating arrangement. Marius, Fulcinia, Alecto, Secondus, and I were still in our same seats, but the knights had all been pushed to the very end of the table to make room for the Roman families. One of the girls sat next to me, but her name escaped me now. I thought of Lancelot's descriptions…too many bracelets…Lamia. She ignored me, continuing to stare sourly at the food on her plate as if it had done her personal wrong.

I stared down the table, searching, and finally found Tristan. He sat on the opposite side, between Bors and Lancelot. His eyes were flickering over the faces of each Roman with distrust. I knew that all of the knights must feel uncomfortable being around so many of the race that enslaved them to a land they had no wish to inhabit. I could see the slight curl of Lancelot's lip, and the malice in Galahad's eyes. They didn't want to be here, and I could not blame them for that.

The meal went by without any complications, just carefree conversation and discussion of who would and wouldn't attend the wedding ceremony. I didn't know if it was the knights' bias shining through in me, but I couldn't help but feel like the Romans all had a certain disdainful smugness about them that even Marius hadn't achieved. The closer to Rome, the more arrogant. That seemed to be the equation.

To my surprise, Marisa was the one to clear my plate once the meal was over. Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flushed. There was a radiant smile on her face though, and she flashed me a quick wink before she turned her back. I guessed her meeting with Ganis went well.

"Well, gentlemen," Marius declared loudly to get everyone's attention once the door shut behind the last servant, "now that we are fed and watered, we may retire to my study. There is much to discuss since my absence from our fair city." He grinned around hugely at everyone, making me want to vomit my lunch back up. "Lamia, Persephone, Tisiphone, Damiana, and Vlasta, I believe Xanthe is to take you around the back gardens. A small tour, if you will." He glanced to the other end of the table, his smile hardening to allow more of the falseness through. "Two of our Sarmatian guests have volunteered to guard you, so you have nothing to fear from the Woads."

"Splendid idea!" called a portly man with fat squeezing over the rings on each of his fingers so that they were barely visible. I could not recall his name, but at least I didn't have to address him personally, as he had not brought his family with him. I was only expected to associate with the young women. I ran over Lancelot's remembrance key again as the men rose to follow Marius to the study. Alecto distracted me when he lifted my hand and kissed it. He smiled when I met his eyes, and I smiled back. He seemed to take longer to let go of my hand than usual, but now the entirety of my focus was on the man striding towards me with Lancelot at his side.

"My lady," Lancelot said in a mock haughty tone as he pulled my chair out for me.

"Thank you, noble knight," I teased. I met Tristan's eyes, and felt my heart jump at the intensity I saw there. It was reminiscent of the way they looked last night during the hours we spent in the garden. Oh, how I just wanted to kiss him again, run my fingers through his hair, and…this wasn't the time!

I blushed maroon as I headed towards the door where the five girls had assembled, and did my best to greet them with a friendly smile when they noticed my approach. None of them smiled back. The merchant's daughter, Vlasta, even rolled her eyes. My confidence evaporated like a pail of water left out in the sun.

"Follow me, please," I mumbled, sweeping by them, and out into the hallway. I lead them through the twisting turns of the halls to the back of the house, and out into the fresh air. The temperature was warm, but not as burning hot as it had been earlier. Even in the summer, Briton was normally not so hot, but this year seemed to be an exception. I would not complain. I was enjoying the deviation from the usual rain, snow, and cold.

"So why exactly are we out here?" asked one of the twins. Her sister nodded along with her statement, fixing me with a piercing look. I swallowed nervously, feeling like I was being interrogated.

"Marius and Fulcinia thought it would be a way for you to spend your time," I replied, eyes on my feet. "I…I suppose we'll just follow the path."

The girl with the beauty mark on her chin, Damiana, laughed shrilly and cruelly, and then started walking without waiting for me to lead. The others followed her, and I soon came to realize that they all knew each other already and had some sort of alliance formed. I wouldn't call it a friendship, considering the judgment with which they eyed each other when backs were turned. I could feel defeat in my grasp.

"This doesn't seem to be going well," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth as I fell into step just in front of Tristan and Lancelot. Lamia whispered something, and they all shot a glance at me before bursting into laughter. I flushed again.

"Nothing involving Romans will ever go well," Lancelot replied just as quietly. "Do not let them get to you though. That is what they're trying to do. Just pretend like it does not bother you."

"But it does bother me," I muttered under my breath, not intending for either of them to hear it.

I should have known that Tristan would. He was the eyes and ears of the knights. He had to have sharp hearing to be their scout. So when he gently grazed his fingers across the palm of my hand for just a moment, I knew he was silently reassuring me that nothing they said mattered in the slightest. And just that little touch helped me more than any amount of words from anyone else could have.

/\/\/\/\/\

I was exhausted mentally and emotionally by the end of the walk. I was tired of the snide little comments about light hair being ugly and slaves needing to stay in their place. I did what Lancelot said: I put on an oblivious front, and acted like nothing they said got to me. But at some moments, I could feel tears stinging my eyes, and had an urge to bury myself in the earth and never come out.

We went our separate ways at the entrance hall, and I hurried away before Tristan or Lancelot could talk to me. If I'd heard the insults directed at me, I knew they had as well, and that was mortifying. The logical part of me knew that they didn't think so low of me, or they wouldn't have tried to befriend me. The insecure half was afraid to hear the same accusations hurled from their mouths. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle much more cruelty today.

Marisa wasn't in my room as she normally was, and my heart sank. I really just needed to talk to her right now, and listen to the reassurances that always fell so easily from her lips. Since she wasn't, I went to the balcony, and looked out over the horizon.

The sun would be setting in about two hours, which meant I would have to return to the Romans' company for dinner. My mind started to form excuses to get out of it, but they all were feeble or would breed suspicion. Besides, I couldn't avoid them for their whole visit. I was the main attraction of this excursion.

I took a deep breath, and leaned my elbow against the railing, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. Being a slave was so much easier than being this. I'd automatically known everyone's opinion of me, and it hadn't bothered me that they thought of me in the same respects as they did the rats beneath their floorboards because that was what was expected. Now I was to be a wife, the lady of a household, and even a mother soon enough, yet the opinions had stayed the same.

Or perhaps the way people perceived me had stayed the same since I was born. The woman who'd brought me up from a baby hadn't even held any affection for me. Maybe my mother's adultery brought down a curse on her bastard daughter: I could never be anything more than dirt on the ground in anyone's eyes. But no, I couldn't blame her or my father. All they'd done was fall in love under dire circumstances, and wasn't that what I'd done as well? I forgave them long ago. Yes, it had brought misfortune on everyone they cared about, but they couldn't help it. And even if I was cursed, that was alright. Because it seemed like one man had the power to break it.

Tristan. Where would I be without him? Would I be dead? I had, after all, been planning to throw myself off of my balcony before we met, but I'd been altered beyond all recognition the moment I saw him. Love at first sight was something that I would have said only happened in fairy tales, but that's what I'd found in Tristan. But that might not be a good name for it. I had not loved him immediately, but I'd known that I _could _love him, if that made sense. He was all that was clear to me now, a savior I hadn't asked for or even realized I'd needed.

A knock on my door broke me from my thoughts. I turned to stare at it with a confused expression. Anyone who came to see me either didn't knock, or would just enter after knocking. I decided it must be Alecto, and braced myself, just in case he'd found out about Tristan, his father, or his mother and Secondus.

"Enter," I called.

Shockingly enough, Gawain was the one who walked into my room. He left the door open respectfully, and smiled sympathetically. "I hear you had a bad day, Princess."

I regarded him with surprise for a moment longer before allowing my facial features to crumple into the weariness I was experiencing. "An entire day with rude Roman girls with bitter tongues who think higher of Woads than of me. How could that possibly be anything but a bad day?"

He came to stand next to me at the balcony, surveying the land with a practiced eye. "That describes all Romans, you know. They have not singled you out. They hate everyone who is not as they are."

"Arthur does not," I pointed out.

He smiled fondly. "Arthur's Briton half gives him enough humanity to have a heart."

I looked down at my hands, and replied, "I wonder if it is the same for me."

"You're half Roman, half Briton?" he asked in a slightly surprised tone. "I thought you were Sarmatian."

I raised my head, my brow creased perplexedly. "No. I am half Roman, half…something. I do not know what my father was. My mother was married to a Roman, but she had an affair with the man who worked in the stables that resulted in her becoming pregnant with me. I do not know where my father came from."

Gawain shook his head. "He was Sarmatian, I have no doubt."

"Why do you say that?" I asked curiously.

He picked up a strand of my hair that had fallen loose from the knot on top of my head, and held it against one of his own. They matched perfectly. "This is how I know," he responded. "No Roman or Briton ever had hair this color." A big grin suddenly appeared on his face. "You are one of us, Xanthe."

Despite how terrible my day had been, I smiled brightly at the idea of being Sarmatian. It had never bothered me that I was not sure of my nationality, but knowing was nice all the same. And knowing that I was Sarmatian somehow made me feel closer to Tristan, and even all of the other knights. I was surprised, but pleased more than anything else.

"I never even considered that," I admitted, staring at Gawain's hair. It really was the same as mine.

He laughed. "It was the first thing I thought when I saw you." He glanced over his shoulder. "Just do not tell your betrothed that. As you see," he gestured to himself, "Romans think very little of Sarmatians. Who knows, they might even try to make you join the legion." I laughed, my horrid experiences of earlier forgotten. I felt light and happy, something that didn't happen often.

I glanced at the sun's position again. "Gawain, we have time before sunset. Can we go practice archery again?"

He bowed deeply. "Anything for the princess."

I playfully slapped his shoulder, and he laughed as we left the room. I felt like I'd found the brother I never had in Gawain. He would tease me to make me laugh, and now that I knew where I came from, I had less questions about my background. Not every problem was solved, of course, but for right now I could just practice archery and pretend that things would all work out for the best.

**Short chapter, but I wanted to get some interaction with the Romans in. The next one will be much longer. There's a lot going on in it. :)**

**I'm putting up pictures of the Roman girls right after this is up, so check it out, if you want!**

**So let me know how I'm doing in a review! Hell, I don't care if it just says "good" or "bad". I just really love feedback. If I was pregnant, I wouldn't crave food. I'd crave reviews. That's how obsessive this is. :P**


	14. When Two Are One

**Katy:**** I know I'm not supposed to reply to reviews on chapters, but you don't have an account so I'm making an exception. Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad you've enjoyed my forays into the King Arthur world, haha. I really appreciate that you think I might be the best out of the site, but I assure you that there are authors far better than me out there! :P But having Tristan in character has been a big deal for me, so I'm so happy that you think he is in both of my stories. It really means a lot. But I hope you continue to enjoy my writing, and I hope to see a review from your official account in the future! :D**

**Hey guys. :) Not really anything to say for this A/N, so I'll let you get straight to the reading! *excitement***

_"Explosions in my head that just won't quit. A train has crashed into the wall around my heart, and left the old me dead, obliterated. Stop my breathing in the night when you're not there. The silence ringing through my ears, and all I want to do is hear your voice. But you're not there. Drawn together, painter's brushstroke, sleight of hand. We, we won't go up in smoke. Fates colliding, love undying. Like the rising tide, beating hearts grow, but never die. To simplify: I'll stand by your side. Close my eyes. Hope will never die. Go and take away the pain of being me. Soothe my soul, caress my heart, and end my fear. All my bad memories eradicated. Bang, like gunshots heard against a silent night. My love is louder than these words. They're stronger than the rest, unstoppable, unstoppable."-Atreyu_

I wanted to go see Tristan that night, but I was so exhausted that the second I lay down on the bed to pretend to sleep, I really did sleep. I had a sour look on my face as Marisa chattered on to me about her meeting with Ganis yesterday while she fixed my hair, annoyed that I'd missed out on some of my limited time with Tristan.

She finished plaiting my hair so that it hung around my right shoulder, and then strapped my sandals to my feet. When she stood up straight, she smiled at me brilliantly. I returned it as best as I could, but it didn't feel very honest on my lips. She didn't notice, and shuffled me off to breakfast with encouragements.

As I got closer to the dining hall for the morning meal, my bad mood deteriorated into the melancholy of the day before. I had to spend today with the same five girls from yesterday, and I knew that I would most likely experience the same verbal beating. I was ready to go back to the days where I spent all of my time in my room with barely any visits from anyone who wasn't Marisa. I'd rather be lonely than with all of these Romans.

If I was being honest with myself, I knew the real reason for this emotion that lingered close to grief. This was my last day of freedom. I was getting married tomorrow. It didn't even seem possible that ten days had passed since the knights arrived, and even then, only a week and a half wasn't enough. I needed more time with Tristan. I just wanted time, but that couldn't be granted. Tomorrow was the big day, and then the day after that, the knights would leave. Tristan would leave.

I entered the room, and the men stood as I sat down. I smiled around at them, actually paining my face with the falseness of it all. On instinct, I searched for Tristan. He was sitting in the same spot as yesterday, golden eyes locked on me from behind his tangled mass of hair. I didn't smile, knowing he would see right through it. Bors broke the spell by clapping Tristan on the back for some reason or another. I looked away when Tristan turned to glare at him. The plate of food in front of me made me feel ill. I had no appetite, choosing instead to push the food around to make it look like I'd eaten something.

When the meal was over, Marius called the men to the study again, and Alecto quickly whispered in my ear that I was to entertain the young women again. I already knew this, but I nodded dutifully and stood to collect them. They must have known we were spending the day together as well because they were standing in a group near the door, waiting for me.

"Come on then," snapped Damiana, the clear leader amongst them. She glanced over my shoulder, eyes searching the remaining crowd. "Will we not have guards today?"

I opened my mouth to say I didn't know, but then Lancelot materialized out of nowhere with Tristan just behind him. "Ladies," he said in greeting, using a sultry note to his tone that he'd only used on me the first day we met.

A wave of giggles passed over them all, and I blinked in confusion. Only a moment ago they'd been sour and agitated. I decided Lancelot must have special powers.

"Where are we going?" Vlasta asked bluntly, causing all eyes to turn on me. I blushed under their gazes.

"I do not know," I admitted.

"Let's go to the stables," Lamia said, looking to Damiana almost like she was asking permission.

Damiana appeared to think on it, and then finally nodded once in approval. "Lead us," she said to me.

I quickly turned to Tristan and Lancelot, having no idea how to find them by myself. Tristan held open the door, and Lancelot lead us through, leaving Tristan to guard from behind. All of the girls seemed to be vying for a position next to Lancelot like bees flying around honey as we moved through the many hallways of the estate. He drank in the attention with the air of someone quite used to it, smirking all the while. Tristan hung back, looking thoroughly disinterested. I didn't walk right next to him, as that would be deemed inappropriate by our guests, but I hung back as well, getting as close to him as proper etiquette would allow.

The stables were located rather close to the guards' training arena, and were currently empty of human inhabitants. There were many more horses in here than usual due to the guests and the knights' horses occupying most of the space. The smell was rather unpleasant, as were the memories of the last time I was in here, when I was so tired that I passed out and fell off my horse.

"Which one is yours, Sir Lancelot?" asked one of the twins flirtatiously, stepping much closer to him than she would have in other company. The others shuffled closer, not to be outdone.

"Right here," he said, walking up to a large black stallion that threw its head proudly at the attention. All of the girls began to coo about how beautiful it was, and then they offered to brush him, which Lancelot allowed. He stayed with them, watching with a smirk as they all brushed him at once with overdone enthusiasm even though it was clear that they didn't care very much about horses in general. Damiana even seemed a bit disgusted by it all, her nose wrinkled unpleasantly above her winning smile.

I looked around for Tristan, and spotted him on the opposite side of the stables next to a dapple gray, feeding the animal pieces of a green apple he was holding. I came to stand next to him, and looked at the beautiful horse before me.

"Is it yours?" I asked, referring to the animal.

He nodded, and fed it the last piece of apple. "She's been with me since Sarmatia," he murmured, returning the dagger he'd been using to slice it back to his belt.

"She's gorgeous," I told him, stepping forward timidly. The horse seemed to grow a bit uncomfortable, but I whispered to her reassuringly, promising her that I meant her no harm until she finally calmed down and allowed me to pet her snout. I turned around, and smiled shyly at Tristan. He stepped the slightest bit closer to me, and I hoped for a moment that he might kiss me until I remembered where we were.

"You did not come last night," he said quietly.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I meant to, but I was so tired."

He nodded to let me know it was okay. "Will you tonight?"

"Of course," I said earnestly, knowing I wouldn't miss seeing him tonight for anything. I'd pass out during my wedding if that was what it took.

We both walked back over to Lancelot's horse's stall where the girls were still fawning over the creature who was reveling in all of the attention. I leaned against the empty stall next to it, watching them with slight disdain.

"We'll just leave you ladies alone," Lancelot said, walking towards the door with Tristan where they stood guard with their backs to us.

Damiana giggled the second they were out of earshot. "Did you see how he looked at me?" she asked them all excitedly.

"Lancelot?" asked one of the twins. "I think not! He was looking at _me_."

"You're too ugly," the other twin said. "He clearly wants me."

"We look the same, you imbecile," the first pointed out.

"You are all wrong because he wants me," Lamia announced, a smirk growing after she said it. "But that's too bad."

"Why do you say that?" Vlasta asked.

"Because the most attractive of them all is clearly the one with the blonde hair," she replied simply.

"What's his name again?" asked Damiana.

"Gawain," I answered. They all looked at me like they'd forgotten I was there, and then went back to their conversation.

"Gawain, yes," Lamia said with a sly smile. "He is perfect. Have you seen his arms?"

"But Lancelot's face is flawless," Tisiphone pointed out.

"What about the young one with the curly hair?" Vlasta asked. "He is not unattractive either."

"And the tall one," Persephone said. "The strong, silent type."

"They're all gorgeous," Damiana sighed. "Except for that fat, loud one. I cannot even hear myself think from his dreadful laughter at our meals."

They all laughed, but I just frowned. I liked Bors, never mind his obnoxious laughter. That was just the way he was.

"But what about that one?" Vlasta whispered, directing all of their attention towards the door. Tristan.

"He might be the most beautiful of them all if he were not so scary," Lamia said decidedly.

"Very true," Persephone agreed. "Just look at his cheekbones! And I've ever seen golden eyes before."

"Not a bad body either," Tisiphone mumbled.

"None of that even matters," Damiana snapped, clearly irritated because they hadn't been giving her enough room to talk.

There was a quick pause, and then Lamia asked, "Why not, Dami?"

She rolled her eyes with theatrical exaggeration. "Because he's a murderer! All of the knights have to kill, of course, but my father told me that he goes out of his way to cause suffering." She glanced over at the knights by the door, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I've heard that he comes from this tribe in his country where it is a ritual to kill their parents once they come of age. _That_ is how he got those tattoos on his face!"

They all gasped, looking appropriately shocked and afraid, but I was suddenly so angry that I could barely contain myself. I wanted to rage, scream at them about just how wrong they were, and prove to them that he was the most incredible man there ever was. I had no doubt in my mind that they were lies.

"That isn't true," I spat, causing all of them to look at me with surprise. "You made that up, or whoever told you did."

Damiana's face twisted into an ugly scowl, and I knew that I would not like whatever was about to be said. "And how would you know? You are just a slave blessed with a pretty enough face that it cancels out your strange hair and dull personality. People know things in Rome, whereas you've been holed up here in Briton with only savage natives to teach you anything. Can you even read?" I flushed a dark red, and she knew that I couldn't. "See? How would an uneducated slave know things that a sophisticated Roman lady does not?"

I felt like such a fool that I almost broke down into tears. The last vestiges of my pride wouldn't allow it though, so I quickly composed my face into a blank expression. She was right. I couldn't read, and I didn't know for certain that what she said was false. It was the faith I had in Tristan that was telling me it was a lie, but that was enough for me. My heart knew him better than my head did, and my heart didn't need to read to understand that.

"You are wrong about him," I said in a dead tone. I spun on my heel before I could get another verbal lashing, and strode up to Lancelot and Tristan.

"I am not feeling well," I told them in the same lackluster tone. "Please escort them back to the house. I must go lie down."

I quickly strode away, feeling relieved that they just followed the order without following me because the second I was far enough away, the tears started to slip down my cheeks.

/\/\/\/\/\

I sat against a tree on the outskirts of the training yard, staring off into space sadly. I'd gone back to the house long enough tell Marisa that I wasn't feeling well and to refuse any visitors before slipping out and coming here. My first instinct was to go to the garden where Tristan and I normally sat, but they were getting things set up for the wedding ceremony now so it was pretty crowded. My feet had lead me here, and I'd been sitting in solitude ever since, lost in thoughts of Tristan.

Was I right in assuming that my heart knew best about him? It was just that when I looked into his eyes, all I ever saw was blatant sincerity. He didn't seem like the sort of person to dance around things with lies, and was normally very straightforward with me. When he spoke of Sarmatia, he hadn't said anything about killing parents, but we hadn't been that involved in the conversation. I just didn't know what to think anymore.

"Well, look here. The princess has escaped her tower," said an arrogant voice from behind me. I turned my head just in time to see Lancelot plop down next to me on the ground, leaning against the tree as well. He smirked when I looked properly abashed. "Don't fret. I won't tell anyone."

"I just…needed to get out for a little bit," I admitted, resting further back against the trunk now that I knew he wasn't going to force me to return to my room.

"I know. I could tell when you were lying about not feeling well," he replied, laughing when I stayed silent after that. "You aren't going to deny it?"

I shrugged. "I see no reason to. We obviously both know I feel fine if I'm sitting in the woods when I am supposed to be resting."

He nodded in agreement. "That is true." He paused for a couple of minutes in which I stripped away pieces of the bark from the root of the tree near me, and he just stared off towards the archery grounds contemplatively. Finally, he asked, "So what really happened?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that I was just sick of the stuffy company, but hesitated. Lancelot was a bit of a jokester and a humongous flirt, but he didn't strike me as the type to be untrustworthy. I _could _tell him the real reason…besides, it could seriously make some Romans angry, so I figured he would support something that did that no matter what.

I closed my mouth for a moment, collecting my thoughts, and then tried again. "One of them said that Tristan comes from a tribe in Sarmatia where they must kill their parents when they come of age, thus getting the tattoos on his face. It…bothered me, and I don't know if it is because I know so little about him that I wasn't sure if defending him was the right thing or because I am so blinded by him that I would defend him even if it was proved otherwise."

To my surprise, he laughed. "I knew there must be something going on with him! He's been much edgier than usual, disappearing at all times of the night! Who would have thought he was secretly bedding the bride."

I smacked his arm with all the force I possessed. "He is not bedding me! And is that really all you took in from that whole statement?"

He laughed again, rubbing his arm. "You pack quite a punch for such a small girl. But no, that isn't all I heard." He settled himself back against the tree again, appearing to think about what he would say next. "Tristan and I…we have never had an easy relationship. Even during training we clashed. In truth, we are exact opposites of each other in every way. Do not get me wrong, he is my brother in the same way as all of the knights are. I suppose all families have those two siblings that are always at each other's throats. I think that, because we are so different, I understand him more than the other knights do, which is most likely another reason we conflict so brilliantly. That is why I can say that Tristan needs someone like you, who always has unwavering faith in him."

I mulled that over, remembering Gawain once telling me that they hated each other. Perhaps Gawain just saw everything in such a simplistic light. There seemed to be a strange love/hate dynamic between the second-in-command and the scout, which was almost too deep to delve into.

"Perhaps I can explain it another way," Lancelot said, taking my silence as a lack of understanding. "Many people that Tristan comes across are afraid of or unsettled by him, which I am certain you can understand. He likes it that way. He is antisocial and does not like to share his thoughts of emotions, and would rather be with animals and in nature than around people. But honestly, the view that most people get of him is not right. They think he is heartless and cold, and they think that because he is so efficient and unrelenting on the battlefield that he feels less for those he kills. In reality, I think that Tristan feels more than the rest of us. He can find beauty in simple things like nature or the bond between a horse and a man. His way of coping with killing is to block everything out while he fights, allowing himself to just be taken over by the warrior in him. I think that it makes it easier for him to sleep at night if he pretends that it is not him killing those men, that it is another side of him, a detached part that is not fully connected to him. There are two sides to Tristan, and both are as hard to figure out as the other…but I think you have come closer than any of us to knowing what goes through his head."

I considered that, and then nodded slowly. It did make sense that he would block it out in order to deal with the effects of killing so many for a cause that you care nothing about. Perhaps some of the knights had healthier coping methods, like Arthur and his prayer, but to me, whatever helped Tristan seemed perfectly fine to me.

Lancelot stood up, and smiled down at me. "Do me a favor, Princess. Don't tell him I told you any of that. He would think I was calling him soft, and beat me to death."

I smiled and nodded, and he left me with a slight bow. When he was almost out of the clearing, he turned around.

"And one more thing: I was there when the legion retrieved Tristan from his home. His parents were very much alive when they were seeing him off."

/\/\/\/\/\

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I attended supper, and answered a million questions about how I was feeling, as they news had spread that I was "feeling ill" earlier. I could feel Tristan's eyes on me occasionally, but I never looked at him. I had something on my mind, a decision to make before I saw him tonight. Part of me knew I'd already made up my mind, but now I was a bundle of nerves. Was I ready for this?

I told Marisa that I would get myself ready for bed tonight, and she seemed slightly confused. I told her to spend the extra time with Ganis, and the confusion was quickly replaced with glee and thankfulness before she left.

I put on my nightshift, and then brushed out my hair. It was wavy from being in braids all day. I cleaned myself up quickly in the wash basin, and then just stared at my reflection in the mirror. I made up my mind when I looked into my own eyes. I was doing the right thing.

I left my room minutes later, slipping down the corridors like a wraith in the knight, being as silent as possible. All of the servants who'd been working in the gardens earlier had thankfully gone now, which would leave Tristan and I alone. The knight was warmer than most, and the moon was full. There was a slight breeze as well, to even out the temperature. Perfect.

Tristan was already standing at our usual spot, and he turned when he heard my approach. I smiled, but he frowned.

"What happened earlier?" he asked.

I ignored the question, choosing instead to step closer to him and wrap my arms around his middle. He froze, but then held me close to him. I listened to his heart beating, and noted how it was perfectly synchronized with my own.

"Well?" he asked. I should have known he wouldn't let the question go unanswered.

I pulled away just enough to look at his face. "I let something one of them say get to me when I should not have, but that's all over and done with. Right now, I just want to focus on you and I."

When I leaned up to kiss him, he leaned down to close the distance I couldn't reach, covering my lips with his own. The kiss started slow like our previous ones but quickly built into something that was making fire churn in my belly. I could have sworn the blood in my veins was boiling. When I started to pull at his tunic, trying to get it off, he stopped me.

"Xanthe," he said, question laced in his tone. I put one finger on his lips before he could continue, but began to blush with a combination of my bold actions and the heat that was still burning within me.

"Tomorrow, I am getting married," I pointed out. "I will be expected to…give something to my husband, something that I have not given anyone else." He tensed in my arms, so I hurried to continue. "The thing is that I don't feel that…that thing, is rightfully his." His eyebrows rose. "Tristan…Tristan, I love you, and I belong to you. Every part of me, including what I am supposed to give to Alecto tomorrow night. I _want _to give myself to you, and I plan to, tonight."

He stared down at me, looking in my eyes like he was trying to locate any signs that I was joking. I already knew he would find none, so I waited. It took longer than I expected, but he finally recovered from the weight of that statement and ran the backs of his fingers against my cheek in a gesture so gentle that I knew everything Damiana said was false.

"Are you only doing this because I am leaving soon?" he asked.

"No. I told you why I am doing it," I responded.

He contemplated that, all the while staring at me in a way that would have made me tell him the truth if I had been lying. Fortunately, I wasn't, and remained silent while he made his decision. Suddenly, he let go of me, and I thought he would leave me there. I felt humiliation flare up, and began to curse my vulnerability until I realized that he wasn't leaving. He took off his cloak, and splayed it out over the ground.

I smiled when he reached for me, understanding that this was the moment I'd been thinking of since my talk with Lancelot. It seemed appropriate that it would happen here, the place where we first talked, kissed, and fell in love. I lay down with him across his black cloak, and allowed him to pull my nightshift over my head.

He kissed me fiercely, and I melted into him. A part of me acknowledged that I should have been nervous or scared now, but I was completely relaxed. I knew that what Marisa said was right: I would know. And I did know. Tristan was right for me, perfect. We were supposed to here together, now and forever.

He moved his lips to my jaw, and then down the side of my neck. I just clung to him, relishing in the tingling in my spine as he kissed a trail down my neck. When he came to my collar bone, he bit down gently on the sensitive flesh, and I gasped with surprise and pleasure. He came back up so that our faces were level. He pressed his forehead to mine, and kissed my lips so lightly that I thought I might have imagined it.

"Mine," he whispered.

I knew immediately that he spoke of me, that this was his way of claiming me. All I could do was nod.

"Yours."

**I know, I know, I told you I'd try to write smut. It didn't work. I'm too awkward to write smut.**

**So there are six chapters left now! We're almost to the end. I know I told you guys that I would have a oneshot for a sequel, but I changed it so that I incorporated what would have been in the oneshot into the final chapters of the story. So this is going to be a solo fic.**

**Thanks to those of you that reviewed! It really helps when you guys give feedback! You are all amazing. :D**


	15. Until the Day I Die

**Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter fourteen! :D**

**I received a review that called me "the friendliest author on the site", which is appreciated yet strange. I've never even been called "friendly" before, haha. But thank you to ****Hayley**** for that. :P Your review was really sweet, and I hope you continue to enjoy this!**

**On a side note, I had a job interview today, and it went pretty well! Keep your fingers crossed for me everyone! I need the money desperately, haha.**

_"If you died right now, you know that I'd die too. I'd die too. You remind me of the times when I knew who I was. But still the second hand will catch us, like it always does. We'll make the same mistakes. I'll take the fall for you. I hope you need this now 'cause I know I still do. Until the day I die, I'll spill my heart for you. Until the day I die, I'll spill my heart for you. Should I bite my tongue until blood soaks my shirt? We'll never fall apart. Tell me why this hurts so much."-Story of the Year_

"Good morning, my beautiful little blushing bride!"

My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light, to see Marisa's face beaming over me. She had a tray laden with food in her hands, and she plopped it over my lap and sat down at the edge of the mattress. By the sun's position, it must have been past midday.

"You eat by yourself today," she said as I pulled myself further up the bed and brought the tray of food closer. "It is custom to allow the bride to sleep as long as she pleases on the day of the ceremony, but I feared you might not wake until five minutes before."

I faked a smile that seemed to please her. I wasn't hungry, but I knew Marisa would just force me to eat anyway if I refused. I put a piece of bread in my mouth, and chewed it like I was munching on rocks, feeling my stomach churn. I was nervous for so many reasons today. Every one of my instincts was screaming for me to find a way to get out of this. I needed to. I couldn't marry him, but I had to.

"I don't know what I am doing, Marisa," I admitted quietly, staring dejectedly at my tray.

She laughed airily, and took a piece of bread for herself. "Well, it isn't that hard! All you have to do is put on your dress, look pretty, walk down the aisle, say the vows that Marius taught you, and kiss. That's it."

I shook my head, deciding not to voice that I wasn't worried about those parts. I was worried about the after, the promise behind the ceremony. I didn't want to be tied to Alecto for the rest of my life. I wanted Tristan, and that was it.

I heard voices filtering over the balcony, and Marisa, noticing my confused expression, said, "The last of the guests have started arriving."

I swallowed, the nervous lump in my stomach grew what felt like three times bigger. Married. I was getting married in front of a group of people who disdained my very existence and to someone I didn't love while the person I did love looked on. This was wrong. _Wrong_.

"Marisa, I cannot do this," I said, pushing the tray away from me and standing up to begin pacing. She fixed me with a bewildered look. "This is not fair to anyone involved! Alecto doesn't love me, and I don't love him! Fulcinia and Marius do not even like me! Well, Marius liked me a bit too much, but he hasn't even looked my way since the last time he tried to assault me. This was something stupid he did to fuel his own psychotic intentions, and I have no doubt in my mind that he would have called it off and had me killed if the guests have not already arrived. The reason he had me betrothed to Alecto at all is void now that he can't just have his way with me. I do not want to do this anymore! Marisa, I am losing my mind! Losing it! My thoughts are chaotic, and I just want to go back to the times when everything was uncomplicated!"

I faced her with tear-filled eyes and a face full of anguish, and she seemed to have no idea what to do about it. "Xanthe…I can truthfully say I have no idea about any of what you just said."

I groaned, and threw myself back onto the bed, giving up on talking. I couldn't seem to collect my thoughts enough to get them out correctly. Marisa smoothed my hair down in a soothing gesture.

"You're just nervous, something all brides should be on their wedding day," she said. "I'll have your bath brought up now. That should calm you right down."

She left, and I took the time to throw some of the food over the balcony to make her think I ate it. I went back to the bed, noticing that the white dress I was to wear today was draped over a chair, just waiting to be put on. I felt nauseous again.

Marisa came back with some servants who carried a tub and buckets filled with warm water. They poured it into the tub, and left hastily. Marisa dumped scented oils into the water, and beckoned me over. I trudged to her side, and allowed her to pull my nightshift over my head. She gasped once it was off, and I looked at her confusedly.

"What?" I asked.

She pointed at my side in a jerky motion, and I looked at my stomach. On the left side of my ribcage, there was a bruise-like red mark on my skin. I ghosted one fingertip over it, having no idea what it was or how it got there.

"What is it?" I asked her, mystified.

She pulled down the collar of her dress to reveal an identical mark near her collarbone. "Do you know who gave this to me?" she asked a bit harshly. I shook my head. "Ganis."

My cheeks flamed instantly, remembering a time last night where Tristan's lips had been over the very skin where the mark was now. Suddenly I understood, and Marisa was obviously one step ahead of me. To my surprise, she was smiling knowingly.

"So you and Alecto decided not to wait, eh?" she asked slyly, shoving me towards the tub. I climbed in, trying to keep the guilt off my face. "There is no shame in it." If only she knew just how much shame there actually was involved.

I cleared my throat. Marisa was the first friend I'd ever had, the most trustworthy person I knew. I had to tell her. "Marisa…Alecto did not give me this."

She picked up my hand to begin scrubbing at my hands with a perplexed look. "He didn't? Then how did…" Her face suddenly morphed into realization, and she let my hand drop back into the water with a plop. "Who?"

I looked away bashfully, staring at the edge of the metal tub rather than at my curious friend. "Tristan," I answered quietly.

There was a moment of absolute silence in which the arriving guests even seemed to grow quiet. I was afraid to look at Marisa, thinking I might see accusation or disgust there. When she took my hand again and squeezed it, I knew I couldn't avoid looking at her any longer. To my surprise, her eyes had misted up with emotion, and she looked positively…happy?

"I am so proud of you," she said, voice sounding strained. "I mean, I suspected that you had found someone, but I never assumed you would act on it. My god, you have come a long way! The first day we met you were a silent little worker with seemingly no thoughts of your own, and now here you are, in love and doing things for you instead of thinking about everyone else."

"That's the problem," I replied. "I _am_ thinking about everyone else. Alecto-"

"Do not do that!" she snapped. "Do you love this knight?" I nodded without hesitating. "Then nothing else matters, just like you told me!" She picked up a bottle of oil, and poured some over my head to begin massaging it into my scalp. "So…do you plan on leaving with him?"

I balked. "I can't do that! Marius would have us tracked down and skinned alive!"

"Oh, stop being melodramatic," she said; then she seemed to rethink it. "Well, he would have you killed, but not in such a dramatic manner. Hung, at the most." I flinched. "What are you planning to do then?"

I stared at the ceiling, concentrating on the feeling of her fingers weaving through my wet hair to get it clean. "I have no idea. We haven't talked about it. I have just been focusing on enjoying what time I definitely have with him. I don't know if I'll ever see him again after tomorrow…"

"Oh, Xanthe," she said sadly, quickly embracing me around the shoulders even though I was wet. "I am sure you will find a way! I'll even help you fake your death, if you need."

I laughed despite my anxiety. "I don't think it will come to that."

She shrugged. "Put your head under."

I did so, quickly rinsing out the excess oil, and then coming back to the surface. I began to scrub my legs and arms clean while Marisa prepared the towels to dry my hair. She came back to the side of the tub, and her sly expression warned me of her next question.

"So how was it?"

I choked on nothing but air, having no desire to discuss it. "I'm not telling you!"

"And why not? I will tell you about how Ganis is, if you like. He's-"

"Stop!" I said, holding up my hand hastily. "Don't you think that this might be one of those things we keep to ourselves?"

She hesitated, and then sighed. "You are being difficult, but that is okay. You're allowed to be for this day."

I scoffed, deciding not to let her know that I wouldn't talk about it with her even when I wasn't allowed to be difficult. In all honesty, it was…amazing and special. I couldn't have imagined it being more perfect. Yes, we were on the ground instead of in a bed, but I would have rather had it in that place where we shared everything than anywhere else. If I closed my eyes, I could still picture every kiss, every caress, every moment of what we shared. I'd never experienced anything more, dare I say it, magical. If nothing had confirmed it before, I now knew that I belonged with Tristan. I always would.

As Marisa helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in absorbent cloths, I asked, "How long do I have, Marisa?"

"Two hours," she answered, sounding a bit more grudging about it all now that she knew for sure about Tristan.

I nodded solemnly, accepting my fate. The way I saw it, there were two choices: get married or refuse to do so. If I refused, things wouldn't go well. Marius had legally bought me as a slave, which meant I still belonged to him. He would be embarrassed in front of his haughty Roman peers, and that would mean certain punishment. He could say I'd turned away from God, and have me hung for being a heretic if he wanted. I knew for certain that that path could only end badly for me.

So my only choice was to go through with this, despite every fiber of my being telling me not to. I had to marry Alecto today.

Marisa dried my hair, and then took forever, using dozens of pins, to tie it up in an elaborate style on the back of my head. It was braided in some places, and straight in others. It was a bit of a disarray, really, but it looked fantastic. She strapped brand new orange sandals onto my feet, as was tradition, and then had me stand up so she could slip the dress on. She pinned the shoulders so it would stay on, and fastened the tight belt around my waist.

When I stared in the mirror, I knew I had never looked prettier, and would probably never achieve such a level of beauty again. But at the same time, I wanted to strip all of it away, and leave myself in the same state I'd been in last night with Tristan.

My door opened, and I was surprised to see Fulcinia walk in, wearing a dress of beautiful silk that made her eyes stand out like beacons of fire against a dark night. She waved her hand at Marisa dismissively, who bowed, and shuffled out, sending me a confused look before she closed the door behind herself.

My soon to be mother-in-law said nothing, only gestured for me to sit, and then picked up my hand and began to use a thin metal instrument to get the dirt from beneath my fingernails.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation," she finally said, glancing at me for only a moment before returning to looking at my nails.

I wanted to tell her that she didn't because we both knew that we were doing the same thing, but I truly was curious about what she had to say so I allowed her to continue without protest.

"When I was thirteen, my parents sent me to the Honorius manse to wed Marius, whom I'd never met. He showed absolutely no interest in me other than what was required of him. There were whispers amongst the servants that he had already taken women to his bed, but my parents would not hear my protests, and I was forced to marry him anyway." She paused to switch to my other hand. "For years I lived in his house with his family, waiting for his parents to die so that we could inherit their land." My brow furrowed at the grim description. "One day, I walked into my quarters from spending the day in the library, and found Marius in bed with the daughter of a prominent family friend. Instead of ordering a divorce or yelling or fighting, I walked out and left them."

She stopped cleaning my nails, and sat down next to me on the couch to look me straight in the eyes. "I know that I should have done something other than what I did. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently. Either way, I did not. I left the room, and ran into Secondus. I broke down into tears, and he comforted me, telling me that his brother had always been, and I quote, 'a vile swine with no other care in the world other than himself.'" She laughed a little, shaking her head so that her curls bounced around her head. "It started a bond between us that has been unbreakable since then. A year later, I was in love with him, and we began an affair." She sighed, clasping her hands together in her lap. "Four years later, their mother passed on, and their father joined her two years after. That left the dispute of who would get their land. In the end, they brought it to the pope, who had favored their father. He deemed that Secondus and his wife were to take the land, and granted Marius and I this land here in Briton, which meant we were to move away from all we'd known to come to a land that we knew little about and where knew no one but each other. Marius didn't care, he just wanted to have land of his own. Secondus and I were devastated, of course, but I had no choice but to go."

She pulled the collar of her dress away from her neck, and pulled out a necklace with a thin gold chain and a pendant shaped like a rose. "He gave me this the night before I was to leave with a promise that he would always love only me. I reciprocated it, and neither of us has broken it since. Alecto was born within our first year of coming here. Secondus and I are now frequent writing correspondences, and we spend as much time together as possible when he comes to visit."

It shocked me, the reality of the relationship between Marius's wife and brother. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him until I remembered what a horrible little man he was. To me, it seemed like Fulcinia had every right to be with a man who truly loved her when her husband was going behind her back with any woman he wanted. But then I realized something, memories of some of her statements clicking into place in my head…

"Fulcinia…is Alecto Secondus's son?" I asked quietly.

She looked up with tear-filled eyes and the most guilty expression I'd ever witnessed. "I do not know," she admitted quietly. "He was born at a time where it is possible, and Marius and Secondus look so much alike. I will never truly be sure."

Suddenly the whole thing seemed worse, and I leaned away from her a little bit. She didn't even know who her son's real father was? What would Alecto do if he knew that it was possible that his uncle was his father and vice versa? The weight of the secret I was bound to have to keep from my future husband fell on my shoulders, violent and unrelenting.

"But what I really want to talk about," Fulcinia said hastily, noticing my discomfort, "is you and Alecto. I know you must think me a terrible mother for not telling my son that his wife gave away her heart before he even got a chance."

I tried to protest, but she raised her hand to stop me. "Please let me finish, Xanthe. My first instinct was to go straight to Marius. I hated you immediately for your betrayal. Alecto is my only child, the number one priority in my life, but then I thought about what having you punished would do to him. I know you don't see it because of this knight, but Alecto loves you, truly."

I blinked rapidly, running over moments with Alecto in my mind, and trying to decipher them to see where there was a hint of affection. I saw none. Perhaps she was wrong.

"He does," Fulcinia said, as if sensing my doubt. "He did not at first, but, as I told you, he needed someone who could respect him despite his age. You gave that to him, and he responded. If I told Marius and he had you punished for your sins, Alecto would have his heart broken. I don't want that for him." She looked me in the eye with a slight note of defiance. "In two days, your Sarmatian friend will be gone, and you and Alecto will be married. That is the principal reason why I am keeping this to myself. You will never see him again. He will be just a memory."

My heart plummeted. She wasn't telling Alecto or Marius because she thought that, when Tristan was gone, I would somehow magically fall in love with Alecto in his absence. She was in love herself, she should know that this wouldn't work. She moved to a whole different country with her husband, and Secondus was still the only man she loved. Isolating me with Alecto wouldn't make me love him, it would make me love Tristan more. But I could see the blind determination in her eyes. She just wanted her son to be happy, that was all.

"So we know each other's deepest secret now," she said when I just stared at my lap. She got to her feet, but I remained seated. "You keep your silence, and I will keep mine. Do we have an accord?"

If I said no, what would happen? She would run to Marius and tell him, and he would never believe me if I told him that she was an adulterer too. It was hers and Secondus's word against mine. I would be severely punished, if not put to death, and then either reverted back to slave status or thrown out into the street. But Tristan would be condemned without a trial, as he wasn't a Roman citizen and was a servant to their army. The only trial he would get would be to determine if he was to be stoned, hung, or imprisoned until he died from the bad conditions. I couldn't bare living through his death knowing that I caused it. I could not even bear the thought of a life without him anymore.

I looked up at her, and she held out her hand. I stood, and shook it in agreement, seeing her option as the only way to keep Tristan safe.

**Sorry for the lack of Tristan. I just wanted the Marisa and Fulcinia moments. This was originally the chapter where the wedding was supposed to take place, but it had to get budged down one because Fulcinia talked too damn much, haha.**

**So so so, we're getting closer and closer to the angstiest parts. ;D The next chapter is where things start getting reeeeeeal intense. Seriously, you're all probably going to start throwing punches at me, but I'm okay with that...as long as you do it in review form. *hint hint hint***


	16. This One's for You

**So this is probably the longest chapter I've written for this one. :P You're very welcome.**

**It was a bit harder to write even though I knew exactly what I wanted to happen since I first started writing this. I'm still not sure if I like it too much.**

**There seems to have been a recent influx of plagiarism on this site, which is pretty disappointing. :\ I haven't been a victim (that I know of), but some of the writers I read have been. There's no worst way to depreciate an author than to steal their writing so blatantly. It kind of sucks that that's happening on a place like this, where you're supposed to use someone's ideas in a respectful way for your own writing. I mean, come on! If you don't have an idea for a plot, than don't write anything! It's that simple.**

**The rant is over. It is now safe to continue.**

_"Everyone's screaming, 'It's not fair.' It's not fair. I'll be the Romeo, you play the Juliet. The sun won't set until you appear. 'Cause I know you're the one, my love, my love. What light through this window breaks? So bright, so bright. My life, just for one more day. So bright, you're so bright. Fall fast. The course of love never did run smooth. I'll try. I'll try to dream on my own tonight. We will meet in the moonlight, meet in the moonlight. This is not pretend. Don't play the end. I know you're real, and not just a book I read. Soon I will show you how a heart can never fail, never change. I'll never change."-Of Mice and Men_

The last of the guests were here, and everything was prepared. This was it, the point of no return. My stomach was churning with a mixture of nerves and guilt. I was about to take a boy's last shred of childhood while giving myself to him instead of the man I loved. How could one simple act betray so many at once?

Fulcinia finished attaching my veil to my head. The garment was a violent orange that matched my sandals, a traditional color. I wasn't very fond of it, but that was the least of my worries right now. She grabbed my shoulders, and turned me to look at her.

"You remember the vows?" she asked, shoving a bouquet of red roses into my hands.

I nodded, feeling my face begin to turn the same color as the flowers from the pressure of the situation. Marius had the vows ingrained into my head like he was literally etching them into the walls of my skull. They were in Latin, so I'd had some trouble with them. That might have motivated him feeling that he needed to be so rigorous with the memorization in the first place.

"Do you feel ill?" she asked nervously, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. "If you feel like you might faint, we can push it back a few minutes."

I shook my head determinedly. "I can do it," I said, more to myself than her. I needed to get this over with as soon as physically possible.

She smiled. "Good girl," she replied, patting my cheek before walking into the gardens to go to Marius.

I stood by myself in the hallway, waiting for Alecto and trying my best to slow my racing thoughts. They seemed to all jumble and get confused once I got too close to grasping one, and they were all conflicting with each other. Half of my head was concocting escape plans while the other half was encouraging me to go through with it to keep the peace.

Someone grabbed my arm, and I turned, expecting to see Alecto. Instead, lips were pressed on mine with a pressure I hadn't expected. My eyes widened to the size of boulders until I caught sight of the dark braids hanging in my vision. Tristan.

My eyes closed, and I wrapped both arms around his shoulders, still clutching my bouquet in the process. He held me around the waist, lifting me up so he wouldn't have to bend. I found myself unable to hold back tears, and just let them fall between us, clutching his face between both of my hands for fear of letting go of him. When he pulled away, I didn't open my eyes in a futile effort to keep this from ending.

He kissed both of my cheeks to rid them of my salty tears, and then rested his forehead against mine. I clutched to him with more force, wanting nothing more than to take his hand and run away with him. But I couldn't. We both knew that.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, threading my fingers through his hair. "I am so sorry, Tristan."

He set me back on my feet, his hands lingering on me as he pulled away, forcing me to do so as well. "You don't have to be," he said quietly. I felt him push something behind my ear, but when I opened my eyes, he was gone, like a dream that I wasn't sure was real. I reached up to touch what he'd put in my hair. A flower? One of the petals came loose, and fell into my palm. It was white, almost the same as a rose. He'd put a gardenia in my hair.

Alecto appeared suddenly, wearing his finest robes of light blue, and looked as if he were completely out of his element. He made an effort to smile when he saw me, but it quickly went away when he noticed my tears. To my surprise, he grabbed my hands between both of his.

"What's wrong, Xanthe?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

I let the corners of my lips twitch upwards for a moment, hoping that it looked like a smile. "Oh, nothing. I'm…I'm just really happy," I lied, voice cracking from the size of the lump in my throat.

He bought it, and his smile was real this time. He held out his arm for me, and I threaded mine through his. I quickly wiped my tears away as we turned to face the entry to the gardens where we would be together…until death did we part. Spots exploded in my vision as I suddenly became dizzy with the knowledge of what I was doing. I wasn't given a chance to recover before Alecto was taking those final steps to our doom, taking me with him.

Everyone turned to watch us walk to the man who would marry us. Many smiled, while some stared openly in surprise at my appearance. I even saw one woman begin talking rapidly behind her hand to her neighbor when she spotted me. But none of that mattered because all I could see was a tiny section near the back where the knights had congregated.

Tristan stood stoically between Arthur and Dagonet, hands clasped behind him like a dutiful soldier. His eyes seemed to set my heart aflame, and it kicked up to such an intense speed that I almost considered telling Alecto that I thought I was having some sort of fit. But I kept walking, green eyes locked with gold, letting him know that it was never Alecto. It was always him. The white flower in my hair seemed to weigh even more, and metaphorically, it did. It was holding all of the weight of everything that Tristan and I were keeping from everyone, the weight of everything we felt for each other. Such a heavy burden to bare for such a fragile object.

It seemed like only a very short walk when we finally reached the front where an elderly man with balding white hair stood next to a table with burning candles, a red cloth, and a bible on it. He was a bishop, the man the pope sent in his place to oversee our nuptials. He squinted at us, his mouth twisted in a an ugly look that made his wrinkles more prominent. His back had a conspicuous hump in it that made him stoop so low that he must have only come up to Alecto's shoulder.

He opened his book to a marked page after a moment, and began to read from it in Latin. I had no idea what he was saying. My fight or flight instinct kicked in, and I had a sudden urge to kick the little man in the shins and run away. I nearly laughed out loud at the idea, but then held it in when I realized how inappropriate that would be. Had I lost my mind?

He stopped reading, and set the book on the table next to him in favor of the ribbon. "Join hands," he said in an old, cracked voice.

We turned to each other, and did as he said. He tied the ribbon around our wrists, whispering prayers as he did so, and then held up his arms as he began to recite more Latin from memory. When he finished, Alecto immediately began to recite his vows in Latin. I stared into his eyes the whole time, unwavering. He finished, and gave me a slight nod to tell me that it was my turn.

The Latin sounded strange coming from my mouth, but I pressed on, reciting it all perfectly. Once I was done, the bishop began again. My eyes were drawn to the back of the crowd, to the one I inexplicably loved. He was looking right at me, and it made tears spring back to my eyes.

I started paying attention again when the bishop removed the cloth from our wrists, and put it back to the table. He raised his arms again like he had when he was blessing the marriage.

"Before God and these witnesses, you have sworn to respect, cherish, and love each other before all others on this earth." I only just resisted my urge to recoil. "You may seal your union with a kiss."

The thought of kissing anyone else made my skin crawl. Even as Alecto moved my veil out of my face, I began to feel pressure closing in around me like an iron vice. The second our lips touched, it was done. There would be nothing for me to do. We would be married, and it would stay that way forever. And even as Alecto angled his head upwards in order to reach my lips, my open eyes locked on Tristan. He wasn't looking, and his jaw was locked like it was when he was angry beyond words. It reminded me of the say he found Marius assaulting me in the spare bedroom.

I closed my eyes to block out the sight and to stop the tears that filled my eyes right as Alecto kissed me, finalizing our marriage. I pulled away after only a second or so of contact, and Alecto smiled at me as cheers began to echo around the gardens. We were to head to the dining hall now where a grand feast would be held in honor of our union. I took Alecto's arm as we joined the procession back to the hall and as we passed Tristan, I looked straight into his eyes, and I whispered the only words that came to mind."

"I love you. I'm sorry."

/\/\/\/\/\

The feasting seemed to go on forever as more and more courses were brought out. The last thing I felt like doing was eating, but I dutifully consumed what was given to me, knowing how rude it would look if the bride didn't eat her wedding meal. I involved myself in conversation with anyone who attempted to engage me, purposefully so that I didn't feel obligated to talk to Alecto. I could tell he was doing the same thing from my side, making the awkward tension between us even more noticeable.

After the feast, the tables were moved, music was played, and there was dancing and drinking and mingling. Alecto and I opened the floor with a traditional wedding dance, but after everyone else joined in, I told him I was feeling a bit light-headed in order to end it. I wasn't much of a dancer even on my best days.

I was passed from person to person after that, as everyone seemed to want to congratulate us at once. I smiled and thanked everyone politely, my hand clasped tightly with Alecto's all the while. When the knights finally claimed our attention, Arthur congratulated us briefly and then returned to conversation with the bishop who'd overseen the proceedings. Bors shook Alecto's hand heartily, his face turning red from the amount of wine he'd already consumed, having to be escorted away by Dagonet, who offered us both a rare smile. Gawain and Galahad teasingly made me promise to save them dances, and Lancelot made a crude comment about later that night that forced me to restrain from smacking him like I usually would have.

Once Lancelot walked away (laughing merrily at his own distasteful joke), I spotted Tristan. He was sitting in a corner by himself with a goblet of wine in his hand. I wanted to go to him, but I knew that would have looked too obvious.

"Alecto," Fulcinia said, approaching us with a proud smile aimed at her only child. "Dance with me, my son. Come on then!"

He smiled apologetically at me, but allowed his mother to lead him away. I stood there by myself, feeling the pull that urged me to go to the corner of the room. I didn't look in his direction, knowing there was no way I'd be able to resist if I did. It wouldn't be proper to sit in a dark corner by myself with another man on my wedding day, so I just waited for Alecto to return.

A hand was slipped into mine, and I looked up with surprise. Tristan stood over me, slowly leading me to the dance floor. I followed, feeling an odd sensation like walking on air. Once we were on the floor, he slipped an arm around my waist, and adjusted our hands. I put my other hand on his shoulder, and he lead us across the dance floor with an amount of grace that surprised me. I never would have pictured him as a dancer, but he was moving his way through the other dancers with an even more acute skill than them.

We didn't speak. There was some sort of taboo feeling between us that wouldn't allow for conversation. I felt like I needed to explain myself to him despite that. Did he think that me getting married meant that I just didn't care for him? It was just the opposite. I would do anything for him.

"Tristan," I said quietly once the song was over, "I-"

He pulled away, but we still stood close to one another. "Don't," he interrupted. "I will see you tonight."

He left me there, the other dancers twirling around me like I was just part of the scenery. I knew that I had obligations tonight, ones that I wanted to ignore even more than actually getting married, but despite those, I would go to him no matter what.

/\/\/\/\/\

In the old tradition, Alecto and I were escorted back to his quarters by the whole of the guests. When the doors shut behind us, it felt like the whole rest of the world disappeared, and it frightened me. I couldn't turn to face him as I stared out at the grounds from his balcony. He had a view of the woods, and the rolling hills beyond, much prettier than mine that just looked over the front of the house.

I felt him come to stand next to me, but didn't look at him. He offered me a goblet of something which I accepted. I took a drink, not caring what it was, but feeling grateful that it was water when I identified it. He drank from his own, and I finally felt brave enough to look right at him. Silhouetted against the light of the moon shining down on us, I could see the sharp angles coming out on his face and the baby fat that was fast becoming nonexistent didn't even seem noticeable anymore. I could clearly see what an attractive man he would be, and I felt a pang of guilt and regret in my heart at the knowledge that I could never love him. Yes, it might have been very easy for me to eventually fall for him had Tristan not buried himself so efficiently into every corner of my heart. Part of me wished it didn't have to be this way, but the other part refused to imagine a timeline where Tristan and I did not meet.

I turned away from the balcony, and back to Alecto's room. I'd never been in it before now, but it was plainly obvious that it was quite bigger than the one I'd been given. There was a large bed like mine against one wall, covered with thick blankets of the best fabric and make, and piled with a redundant amount of pillows. He had several bookshelves packed with books around the room, and lavish couches and chairs in various places. There was a white nightgown laid across one chair for me, and I walked to retrieve it. It was light, and I blanched when I noted how transparent it was. There would be nothing left to the imagination.

"You can use the washroom," Alecto said from behind me. I turned around, and he pointed out a door to me.

"Thank you," I mumbled, quickly shuffling over to it, and shutting it behind me.

I splashed water on my face, and then just leaned up against the wall. I knew what was expected of me tonight, but it just felt absolutely perverse to even think of going through with it. Alecto was barely a man, and I was a woman, a woman who'd already given myself to another. But there was no way to deny Alecto what was rightfully his, and I couldn't put off consummating this marriage forever.

I would shut my eyes, think about something else, and get it over with as fast as possible. This had to be done.

I unbuckled the belt, and pulled the clips away to let the dress drop to the floor. When it did, there was an unnatural clunk that made my eyebrows raise. I reached down to pick it up, and Tristan's dagger felt out of the fabric. I'd almost forgotten slipping it into the bodice of my dress before leaving, my fears of Marius coming for me seeming rationalized at the time. Now I realized that there would be no way for him to come to me while I was with his son.

I wrapped it into the fabric of the dress, and left it there before throwing the shift over my head and going back out to the room.

Alecto was already in the wool pants and thin cotton shirt he slept in. The sheets had been turned down, and he was looking nervously at the wall when I entered. His eyes flicked to me, and then his face turned scarlet. Mine did as well at his reaction.

"You…you look…," he stuttered, seeming unable to latch onto the words, "really, r-really pretty." His voice cracked, and he seemed less than thrilled about it.

I smiled as best as I could. "Thank you."

I walked around to the other side of the bed, and awkwardly lowered myself down at his side, staring at the wall like he did once I was settled. We stayed like that for minutes, both of us feeling entirely too awkward to talk. To my surprise, he eventually reached out to take my hand. As I watched, he brought it to his lips to kiss it, and then glanced at me before quickly looking away.

"Are you…are we…," he muttered, staring fixedly at the bed sheets as he tried to collect his thoughts. I already knew the direction he was going in with his stuttered words, and I nodded.

"We must…finalize the marriage," I responded.

His eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened a bit. I looked at him, and he continued to avoid my eyes. I felt like I should probably say something, but words wouldn't come. Tears felt much easier to conjure up at the moment. He suddenly leaned over and kissed me without warning. I kissed him back awkwardly after a few moments of hesitation, and lowered myself further down the mattress.

It was so odd. He was obviously inexperienced, and I was so used to Tristan leading me through it, letting me know what and what not to do. We both seemed to be floundering around stupidly for actions that made sense. He was so nervous that it took him a long time to actually become aroused, and his motions were choppy once he was inside me, never really finding a rhythm.

It didn't last long, but left me feeling violated once it was over. He turned to lay on his back, and I quickly rolled to my side so he wouldn't see the tears that were beginning to slide out of my eyes. I clutched the pillow beneath my head, biting into its softness so that I wouldn't sob.

Alecto was either immune to the tension in the room, or he was doing a good job of pretending that it wasn't there. "Goodnight, Xanthe," he said quietly.

I cleared my throat hastily in an effort to hide the evidence of the apple-sized lump in it. "Good night."

I cried silently while I waited for him to sleep, barely even breathing to ensure that I wouldn't wake him up before he was in a deep enough sleep. When nearly an hour had passed, I raised myself up about an inch, and peered over my shoulder. His breathing had evened out, his eyes were shut tight, and there was a serene peace on his face.

I took my chance, slipping out of the bed and hurrying to the washroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind me. I pulled my nightgown over my head with shaking hands, unable to hold back my gasping sobs any longer. I kept my volume down as much as possible, terrified of waking Alecto. I washed myself up, wanting to scrub this memory from my skin. I felt more raped than any time Marius had come for me.

I hovered over the water, staring at my own desolate reflection. I realized something then. Tomorrow, the sheets would most likely be checked for blood, a sign of my shed womanhood to make sure the marriage was consummated. I knew they would find none, as my initial deflowering had taken place last night. I began to panic, thinking that marrying Alecto had been a vain effort to keep Tristan safe. They would see that I was not a virgin, and kill him anyway.

My eyes darted to the dress on the floor in the corner, and I ran to it, picking it up and digging the knife out from the folds of white.

Tristan's dagger glinted menacingly in my hand, the Sarmatian symbols whispering things that I would never understand. I clenched it tighter, and left my wedding dress where it had been as I quickly redressed in my nightgown and went back to the side of the bed.

I stood over the pure white sheets, glancing at Alecto to ensure that he still slept. Shifting the blankets back, my assumptions were made correct. There was no blood to be seen. I took a deep breath to prepare myself, and then positioned the knife over the inside of my left forearm close to my elbow. I shut my eyes, dug the blade in deeper, and quickly swiped it across the skin.

My teeth dug into my lower lip with the effort of not crying out. I held my arm away from my body, and used the bloodstained blade to dot the sheets with blood, staining the white fabric. Once it was done, I didn't wait another minute to check my handiwork. I fled the room with my arm still bleeding, and the bloody dagger that caused it in my other hand.

I ran to the gardens, half blinded by the tears that kept flooding my eyes. When I saw Tristan up ahead, I let out a guttural sob that made him turn around. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he grabbed a hold of both of my biceps when I was finally close enough.

"Xanthe?" he said, a strange clipped edge to his voice as he scanned my face with his searching gaze. "Xanthe, look at me. What happened? Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head so frantically that my hair made me resemble someone who'd just survived a wind storm of epic proportions. "No!" I gasped between sobs.

He'd located the gash on my arm, and his breath hissed out from between his teeth angrily. He reached down, and ripped a length of fabric from the edge of his long tunic to wrap it tightly around the cut.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. I could hear the deadly note in his tone, and knew that if anyone else besides me had done it, they would be suffering very soon.

Instead of telling him, I wordlessly handed his dagger back to him. He eyed it speculatively before zeroing his gaze in on my face. "You did this to yourself?"

"T-there w-w-was no…b-b-blood on th-the sheets!" I sobbed hysterically, wringing the fabric of my nightgown near my hips with both hands, staring at him through my drowning eyes. "I d-didn't want to do it! I only w-want to do that with y-y-you, but I knew they would m-make us so I j-j-just did it! It was t-t-terrible, and I just want to b-be with you! I only want you, T-Tristan!"

He pulled me into him forcefully, and I clutched onto him like if I held him hard enough, this would all be right. He held one hand on the back of my head, keeping my face in his chest, and the other rubbed my back soothingly as he whispered nonsense things in my ear until I was calm and stopped shaking. I still clung to him, deciding childishly that I wouldn't let go. Someone was going to have to pry me off of him to get me away now.

"I cannot do that again," I whispered in a hoarse voice. "I just can't. How can I live this lie my whole life, Tristan?"

He was silent for awhile, but his hand stilled on my back, just holding me there instead. I just assumed he wouldn't reply, but then he spoke, making me jump a little in surprise.

"Would you leave?" he asked quietly. "Would you be able to ride away from this place one night and never return?"

I looked up at him, expecting a trace of a joke even though I knew he rarely did. There was none, just complete and utter seriousness.

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I am asking you to leave with me," he said, using one of his thumbs to rid my cheeks of the leftover tears.

I dropped my head, looking at his shoulder. "Please don't play with me," I whispered, shaking my head. "I cannot take it if you're not serious about this."

He put his hand under my chin to raise my eyes to his. "I am not playing," he said seriously, over-articulating his words. When I tried to turn away again, he pulled my face back to stare straight into his eyes. "In one year, I will retrieve my discharge papers. After that, I am to return to Sarmatia, to my home. I want you to come with me."

"How could that happen?" I asked desperately. "How could we just run away like that?"

"I will come for you at night," he explained. "You have been slipping away almost every night since I arrived, and no one has noticed. It can't be that hard. There is nothing for you here."

"Marius would track us down and have us killed," I said seriously.

"I can fight," he pointed out. "And once we get to Sarmatia, they will never find us. It is too big, too open."

I floundered for an excuse, a reason for me to refuse him even though I didn't know why I was doing so. I wanted to go with him, to be with him for the rest of my life, but my mind was telling me that this was crazy. "Tristan, I am married!" I reminded him.

He shrugged. "I will not give up on you because of such a trivial thing."

Despite the situation, I laughed and wrapped my arms around him tighter. "Are you truly serious about this? You won't change your mind?"

He rested his forehead on mine, and stared penetratingly into my eyes. "In one winter, I will be right here waiting for you. Will you go with me, Xanthe?"

I kissed him deeply, reveling in the feeling of my heart fluttering with love at the contact. I pulled away after a few moments to give him his answer.

"I will go with you."

**So lots of stuff going on in this one! You guys better be grateful because I broke a nail typing this! BROKE A NAIL.**

**I would like to thank everyone who has read up to this point, and I would like to **_**specially **_**thank everyone who has reviewed, even if you only did so one time with a one-word response. It really does mean so much to me that you guys like this. You have no idea. So thank you, and I hope you continue to enjoy it through the last four chapters! :D**


	17. Only You

**Hey, everyone. :) So I don't know how many of you actually look at the updates on my profile, but I've had a recent revelation. I'm actually much busier during the summer than I am during school. :\ What with vacation and constantly having plans, I'm barely finding writing time. Which is why you most likely hear from me until August or September once I complete "Slowly Searching". I only put out my best stuff, and if I'm more focused on other things, my writing comes out as crap. **

**So this one is dedicated to ****winchesterxgirl****! I freaking love getting your reviews, haha.**

**Enjoy!**

_"All of the elements will fade. Never before has love looked safe. Never again will it look the same. But then we fall back now to this empty house. There the wars will rage. And if you leave me now in this empty house, baby, it's okay. And it's only you. Yeah, it's only you. It's only you and me. And I feel you crawling out my veins, leaving the walls inside with flames; burning the emptiness I've saved until only you remain. But then my lungs collapse, and you pull me out. Forever I've been changed. Honey, you can take me now 'til it all runs out. Baby, it's okay. Can you feel it now? I've weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out. And I swear I, I hear you calling. I hear you calling out my name. It's only you I see."-Cartel_

I woke up with the strangest feeling, a mixture of expectation, joy, and a crippling sadness that made me want to roll over and sleep forever. I thought it over, but my sleep-confused mind couldn't come up with an explanation for the mixed emotions.

I suddenly realized that the light was coming into the room from the wrong angle, and sat up only to see that I was in Alecto's room. The memories crashed over me in a wave of regret and humiliation mingled with disgust. I shuddered at the remembrance of cutting myself with the dagger, and looked down to see the strip of Tristan's tunic still wrapped around it. I untied the fabric, and surveyed the gash. It was clean and precise, a simple slit from one side to the other, and most likely wouldn't give me too much trouble. I left it uncovered, and slid out of bed.

Alecto was already gone, which I thanked any god I could think of for. I couldn't imagine the level of awkwardness we would experience after an encounter like last night. I decided to go back to my room to get ready for the rest of the day so I put on the robe that had been left out for me and left the room.

I didn't run into anyone during my walk, which I was grateful for. I didn't feel much like talking, and wished I had just gone back to sleep. I stripped my nightgown from my body once I was in the room, and used the fresh water that had been delivered into my wash basin to clean myself off, paying particular attention to the cut on my arm. After that, I picked out a cream-colored dress with longer sleeves to hide my cut, and was proceeding in brushing out my hair on my own when Marisa walked in.

Her face was inscrutable as she took the brush from my hand, and started running it through my hair. I waited, wondering what this conversation could possibly be like.

"I removed the sheets from the bed," she finally spoke. My cheeks burned. "I specifically requested the job so that I could lie about the blood. Tell me, Xanthe, why was there no reason for me to lie?"

I guiltily pulled up my sleeve to reveal the cut, and she squeaked, grabbing my arm roughly. "Ouch!" I exclaimed. She ignored me.

"Why would you do something like this?" she snapped. "So close to your veins, no less! You are nuttier than a walnut tree, you know that?"

I smiled apologetically while she retrieved bandages to bind it for me. She continued to mutter angrily under her breath, and I smiled when she looked at me.

"You really have this mother instinct tapped in already," I informed her.

Her eyes lit up with pleasure, and a smile quirked her lips for the merest of seconds before she pointed at me with a forced stern expression. "Don't you pull that sort of thing on me! Compliments will not make me any less angry!"

I changed my tactic. "Is Ganis going to ask Marius for permission today?"

She blanched and then looked faint. "Yes, and I am so very nervous! What if he says no?"

"I told you I would dig a tunnel for you if it came to it," I replied, squeezing her hand in a sisterly gesture. "Everything will be fine. If not, I will do my best to make it so."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're in a surprisingly good mood," she observed. "I thought it would be hell to even get you to leave bed today."

My eyebrows met in one confused line. "What do you mean?"

"Well, your knight is leaving, isn't he?" she said. My heart plummeted. "Secondus sails home tomorrow, and it takes a day to reach the coast."

I felt extremely queasy, and even had to clutch the table in front of me so that I wouldn't fall over. He was leaving _today_. That was why I felt so depressed. This was our last day together for many moons, and then I would be left alone with a husband I wished to avoid, a father-in-law who wanted to bed me, a mother-in-law whom I didn't fully trust, and a horde of secrets that I couldn't even count on all of my fingers and toes. Could I live alone with all of this for even a day, let alone a year?

"When do they leave?" I managed to choke out.

"After they break their fast," she responded curiously. "Xanthe, what's-"

"I have to go," I blurted, standing up to leave.

I heard her call after me, but instead I walked as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to the hall of rooms where the knights were staying. I stared around, trying to remember which room I put Tristan in. I counted the doors, determining which was until I finally decided which was Tristan's.

I walked straight up to it, and prepared to knock until I heard voices from within. I froze with my hand in midair. Both of the voices sounded masculine, so any fears that he had a woman in his room were quickly dashed. I looked down both ends of the hall to see if anyone was watching me, and then slyly pressed my ear against the surface near the junction between door and frame.

"…want to know what you are planning." Gawain? Yes, definitely Gawain. "Do you think you can put her in your saddlebag and ride off into the sunset?"

"None of your business," Tristan grunted, a slight edge of annoyance ringing out. Were they talking about me?

"Yes, it is!" Gawain exclaimed. "If it is discovered that you're harboring a runaway bride, then we will _all_ be punished for it! The Romans will think we helped you plan some sort of scheme to remove her from this house. I'll be damned if you bring the rest of us down with you!"

The silence that followed that declaration was tense, even from outside the door. I was frozen there, terrified that I might hear the ring of metal as swords were drawn from their sheaths. I hated that I was a source of friction between the knights.

"I would never have any of you take the blame for my actions," Tristan finally spoke.

"Not intentionally," Gawain replied. "I know you, Tristan. You're possessive, and I am absolutely certain that you will not let her stay here with that boy lording over her as her husband. Tell me what you are planning."

"Whatever I am planning has nothing to do with you," Tristan growled in response. "Now get the hell out."

I waited to hear footsteps, intending to run around the corner and hide until Gawain disappeared. But there were none, and Gawain didn't leave. He did sigh deeply, and his next statement sounded almost regretful.

"You know you could never give her anything she needs," he said quietly. "You would be on the run your whole lives. Does she want that? Have you two really discussed the possibilities of what could happen if she ran away?"

There was a creaking sound, like someone had stood up from or sat down in a chair. I barely breathed as I waited to hear Tristan's response. I hoped that Gawain's logic hadn't changed his mind. Honestly, it didn't matter if he could never give me a lavish home, expensive jewelry, or any of the other things I was showered with while living here. I didn't want those things. I'd rather run with Tristan forever than stay one more day in this accursed estate.

"She is an adult. She knows what she wants," Tristan finally said, sounding sure of himself. "If she is happy with me, then that is what I will give her."

I smiled, elated by that response. If only he knew just how much of an understatement "happy" was. I was nothing less than euphoric when we were near each other.

"I should have known you would never listen," Gawain sighed. "Just…be careful with her. She isn't some barmaid or farm girl. She is a world better than the girls you are used to."

The footsteps I'd anticipated earlier thumped against the ground, and I whirled away from the door, running as quietly as I could to hide behind a pedestal with a wide vase on top. I peaked around the corner in time to see Gawain shut Tristan's door behind him, and go to his own room, presumably to finish packing. I waited a few seconds before venturing out from my hiding place to creep over to Tristan's door. I was almost there when someone called my name.

I turned around, assuming an innocent expression. Secondus was there with a broad smile on his face, none of the awkwardness from the last time we were so alone was present.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked warmly. "On your way to the dining hall?" There was no pause in which I could answer. "As am I. I'd be honored to escort the newest member of the family."

He held out his arm with a wink. I cast one glance at Tristan's door, hoping Secondus didn't catch the longing in it, before I looped my arm through his and allowed him to escort me to our final meal together in this house.

/\/\/\/\/\

It was strange to sit at that table with the knights for the last time. It felt like years ago that I sat here next to Gawain and watched him throw food to make me smile, and first felt Tristan's electrifying gaze on me. Even now they were the same, laughing and jesting with each other, feeling none of the depressing nostalgia that I did. I wasn't ready for this to end. I didn't want this to be their last meal here.

All of the other wedding guests left yesterday, after the celebration, so the seating arrangement was back to normal. Tristan sat on my one side, and Alecto on the other. Beneath the table, my fingers were wrapped tightly in Tristan's, his whole hand nearly enveloping mine. I was afraid to let go, afraid to be alone in this house without him. He was tense, barely saying anything to anyone the whole meal. Out of everyone, we were feeling the effects of the departure the most.

Alecto beamed at me whenever our eyes met, and I would give him the best semblance of a smile that I could. The gesture felt foreign on my lips. Why would anyone want to smile at a time like this?

"Well, men," Secondus addressed the knights, rising from his chair. "We should start moving. I want to get this journey over with as soon as possible."

Everyone rose, and we all proceeded to the stables together. I held back so Alecto would go ahead of me, leaving me in the back of the line with Tristan, just behind Dagonet. I kept my face carefully blank, not allowing the hurricane of emotions I was feeling become visible. Only when the door closed behind Dag and Tristan grabbed my arm to hold me back did I let loose.

I clung to him with all my might, devoured his lips with my own. I fought the tears, afraid of looking weak in my most vulnerable moment. One of his hands held the back of my head, keeping me in place. The other clutched the fabric on the back of my dress, bunching it into his fist. Mine were splayed out on his chest, fingers clawing into his tunic. I couldn't let him go. Gawain's idea of putting me in his saddlebag didn't seem like such a bad one.

We broke apart, and just stared at each other. I scoured every inch of his face with my eyes, memorizing each contour, line, and scar. How could I live without him now that I knew what it was like to live with him?

"I cannot do this," I confessed.

"You can," he said quietly, pushing my hair out of my face, and kissing my forehead. "One year. It is not that long."

I went to protest, but he silenced me with a quick peck on the lips. "Do not make this harder for me. You are stronger than this," he growled. I complied even though I disagreed with him, wiping the tears in my eyes away with shaking hands.

"We have to go," he reminded me, stepping back. I nodded, clearing my throat primly in an effort to keep myself composed. We left the room side by side, catching up with everyone before they even noticed we were gone.

At the stables, the knights' horses were already prepared to leave. Secondus's carriage had been brought back out, and his personal guards were waiting with the door open. Secondus began to say goodbye to his brother, nephew, and sister-in-law (and lover) while the knights turned to me.

"Twas a pleasure meeting you, Princess," Lancelot said, kissing my hand with a devilish look. "I do hope our conversation the other day gave you some insight on…certain matters."

I smiled sadly. "It did. Thank you."

Dagonet offered me a warm smile as he climbed into his horse, but I could only return it half-heartedly. Arthur shook my hand and bowed his head slightly. "It was nice to have met you, milady."

"You as well," I replied.

Bors bowed exaggeratedly. "Glad to make your acquaintance," he said. "Hopefully one day I will be able to introduce you to my 'Nora and our children." He winked afterward, earning a genuine smile from me.

"I do hope so."

Galahad stepped up next, also kissing my knuckles. "You may not be very good at archery, but you were certainly better to look at on a mission than these ugly bastards." Lancelot snorted, clearly not counting himself as one of the ugly bastards.

"Thank you, Galahad," I chuckled. "Don't let Lancelot put you in a dress anymore, okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't," he growled, taking a swipe at Lancelot as he passed, which was dodged by the receiving party with a grin.

Gawain didn't bother with manners, and simply swept me up in a hug that I was almost certain cracked some of my ribs. I hugged him in return though, and knew that out of all the other knights, I would miss him the most, other than Tristan.

"Hopefully we will meet again someday," he said with a grin.

I nodded. "I truly hope we do, Gawain."

"Come then," Secondus called the knights. "We should get a move on!"

They dispersed to their horses, all except one. Something was pressed into my palm, and I instinctually curled my fingers around it, recognizing it as the same dagger as before.

"Keep this with you," Tristan whispered in my ear. "Stay safe."

"I will," I promised in a whisper as he went to mount his horse. I almost reached out for him, but held back. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but it was too risky here. Besides, there would be plenty of time for that soon enough.

The carriage lurched forward, and the knights created a protective formation around it. Tristan galloped ahead of them all for his scouting duties, but he looked back once. His eyes were right on me, and I raised my hand to my chest in a silent gesture of love.

Marius and Fulcinia went back in the house once Secondus and the knights were a good distance away, but I stayed. Alecto waited with me for awhile, but he eventually went in too. I stood alone near the stables, watching the one on the dapple gray with the tangled mass of dark braids until he was out of sight, taking my heart with him on his horse.

/\/\/\/\/\

Alecto and I spent the rest of the day together, no matter what we were doing. He went to the library to do some Latin training, and I was coerced into going with him. He walked me around the estate to help me get better acquainted with it so I wouldn't get lost as often. We ate together, and then took a walk near the training grounds after.

He talked incessantly, but I could barely hear him over the sound of my own thoughts. They were a jumble of confusion, like the lack of Tristan had made all of my senses malfunction. My chest ached painfully, I had a throbbing headache, and I couldn't even manage to fake happiness anymore. I paid very little attention to my surroundings, allowing Alecto to simply lead me where he wished. I could see his disappointment, but it seemed to matter very little compared to my own emotional trauma.

After supper, I immediately walked in the direction of my room, but Alecto called to me. I took in his shy yet hopeful expression, the way his eyes avoided meeting mine completely, and waited for him to say what he wished.

"Will you…stay with me again tonight?" he asked. "We would not have to…well, I just like sleeping with you next to me."

I felt cornered, and my mouth opened and closed several times as I floundered for an excuse not to. "I am…I'm not feeling very well today, Alecto. I think I just want to stay alone…for tonight."

He nodded, but I could see the hurt and rejection plainly. "Of course. Do you want me to send up a healer?"

"No, that's not necessary. I just need some sleep," I replied.

We both stood there awkwardly, unsure of how best to end this tense encounter. I took a step back finally, and said, "Good night."

"Sleep well," he responded, continuing to stand in the same place. I turned and walked away, spotting him watching me walk away out of my peripherals when I rounded the corner.

When I finally came back to my room, I stared at the horizon, wondering just how far away Tristan was now. A year seemed like an eternity from this angle. Could I really last that long?

I turned to my bed, and stopped. Sitting against my pillow was an immaculate white flower, positioned perfectly like someone had put it there purposefully. I picked the gardenia up, and closed my eyes as I inhaled its scent.

"Tristan," I whispered under my breath.

I had no idea when he found time to get up here, but I knew without a doubt that he'd put this flower on my pillow before he left. It served as a silent reminder that we would someday be together again. It wouldn't be soon and we would have to really commit to the idea to accomplish it, but, eventually, we would end up with each other.

The door to my room banged open, causing me to jump and drop the flower back on the bed. Marisa barged in with an expression of absolute joy, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"He said yes!" she shrieked, launching herself on me, embracing me so tightly that I could barely breathe.

"Who?" I asked when she let go and air finally reached my lungs.

"Marius!" she cried ecstatically. "He said Ganis and I could wed! I AM GETTING MARRIED!"

I expected to be happy for her if she brought this news to me. Instead, I felt a lurch of resentment aimed at Marisa and Ganis. They could now be together publicly; they didn't have to keep secrets. They would live together, raise their children together, and they no longer had to hide. I began to wonder if I secretly wished that Marius would say no to them, just so that Marisa and I would be in the same boat. Was I really so selfish?

"That's wonderful," I said with a big smile, feeling guilty at the swell of disappointment still lingering in my heart.

/\/\/\/\/\

I laid awake long after the sun went down that night. While lying on my side, I could easily see the gardenia sitting on my bedside table. It seemed to glow in the moonlight, reminding me of ghosts from the stories I'd heard other slaves tell. I reached out, and caressed one of the soft petals with my fingertip, remembering the first night I ever did so, the first night I met Tristan. Back then, I thought I'd taint such a pure object, but the love I held in my heart outweighed the negative things about me. Tristan would always be the good in me, even if he wasn't very good himself.

I heard a creak that signaled my door opening, and sat up. A figure slipped in, and shut the door behind them. Before the light even touched them, I knew exactly who had just infiltrated my quarters.

Marius was grinning at me wickedly as he approached the bed, but I was frozen like a frightened doe, my eyes the size of the moon peaking into my windows.

"No more Sarmatian to save you," he growled.

Tristan. The thought of him caused me to spring into action. I rolled in an attempt to get away from Marius, but that was a mistake. I was tangled in my sheets like a cocoon, and he grabbed the bottom of them, yanking me to him. I yelped when he flipped me over, freeing my limbs so that I was able to begin kicking at him. His weight crushed me, cutting off my wasted attempts to harm him. I reached up to try and claw his face, but he grabbed my arms in a vice grip, pinning both of my wrists in one of his hands. He started to kiss my neck as I wriggled beneath him, but it was no use. I was stuck.

I turned my head, allowing one tear of frustration to leak out of the corner of my eye. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. My three years without Tristan could not be spent beneath this man, allowing him to take me against my will. No. No, no, no!

In one violent motion, I kneed Marius in his hip with every ounce of strength I had, missing my original target of his groin. It was effective enough though. He grunted in pain, and his grip on my hands loosened enough for me to get free. I pushed with all my might, thrashing wildly, and managed to get him off of me. I fell out of the bed, ignoring the pain in my knees when they made contact with the floor. On instinct, I fished my hand in the rip in the mattress, and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the knife Tristan gave me just as Marius reached over the edge and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I cried out in pain as he pulled me back onto the bed, but he just used his other hand to cover my mouth. He got back on top of me, but this time I was prepared.

I slashed his bicep with the blade in my hand, and he yelled in shock and pain as blood began to well up in the cut. I scrambled out of the bed while he recovered from the surprise, and was almost to the door before he caught up with me. He wrapped both arms around my waist, and hauled me away from the door as I kicked and jerked around.

"Get off of me! Leave me alone!" I shouted.

He shoved me against the wall, and slapped me so hard across the face that I saw stars. He wrapped his fingers around my throat, beginning to choke me. "You would still be a worthless little servant if it were not for me!" he hissed

My vision was going blurry from lack of oxygen. I didn't want the last thing I saw to be Marius's evil, sneering face. I wouldn't die here. Suddenly my oxygen-starved mind remembered the knife in my hand, and I stabbed forward, aiming for any part of him that I could reach.

He jumped out of the reach of the dagger, which only just missed embedding in his belly. He looked at me with shocked disgust, but I just held the blade aloft in a threatening manner, panting as sweet air filled my lungs again.

"Do you think it is wise to try and stab the man who rescued you from your pathetic life?" he growled with a scowl.

"I think it is wise to defend myself when I am being assaulted," I replied, voice sounding croaky from the pain in my throat.

"Ungrateful whore!" he spat. "Many women would kill to be in your place!"

I knew I was pushing my limit, but my next comment was out of my mouth before I could rein it back in. "Your own wife doesn't want to be in my position, so why would any other woman want to be?"

Snarling, he leapt at me like a predatory cat attacking its prey. I wasn't prepared, and he managed to knock the knife out of my hand, sending it flying across the floor to the other side of the room. That didn't hinder me though. I'd already decided to bolt.

I ran to the door, threw it open, and just sprinted down the hallways, not bothering to realize how loud my footfalls were against the floor. I didn't know if he was chasing me, but I refused to take the chance. I pushed myself harder, running faster than I ever had. I didn't realize where I was going until I ended up in front of Alecto's door. He would never be able to get me in there!

I threw it open, and slammed it behind me, leaning up against the wall as I tried to catch my breath. Alecto had bolted upright, and was now blinking sleepily at me.

"Xanthe?" he asked. "What…what are you doing? What's going on?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that Marius was after me, but stopped myself. Marius had once said that he could accuse me of using witchcraft to seduce him, and I knew that it wasn't farfetched at all to think that people would believe him. My hair and changing eye color was enough for people to think me a witch anyway, they didn't even need a respected Roman telling them to be convinced. If I told Alecto, it would be made public what went on behind closed doors in this estate, and I knew no one would believe me. I would be sentenced to death.

"I had a nightmare," I finally said, stepping away from the door and taking tentative steps toward the bed. "Can I…stay? Here?"

He blinked, and then nodded eagerly, shuffling backwards and throwing the covers back for me to get in. I crawled between the sheets, and then rolled so that I was facing him.

"Thank you, Alecto," I whispered.

He smiled and closed his eyes, easily slipping back into a peaceful sleep. I laid awake much longer, pondering what my life would be like without Tristan and with Marius as my enemy.

**So...there you have it. Tristan's gone. *sadness***

**There's a bit of a time gap between this chapter and the next, but it'll be defined in the next one. :P**

**So I hope I've still got all of you captivated! My readers have to be the best in the world because I don't know how there could be any better than all of you. You have my heart everyone!**


	18. Set the Fire to the Third Bar

**You have no idea how sorry I am for this delay. As you all know, I've been going through a lot with family, and the loss of a friend, so I'm just...kind of spread a bit thin. On top of all this stuff I mentioned, the DC earthquake knocked a hammer off a garage shelf, and shattered the windshield on my car. I now have no transportation. Some higher being is testing me, you guys.**

**But whoever it is won't stop me from finishing this story, I promise! There may be long delays between chapters, but I will finish! Thank you guys so much for not losing faith in me, and for the kind messages and reviews and just...everything, seriously. I couldn't have asked for better readers from the writing gods. Not to mention you guys got me to my 100 review goal! I just love you all so much. Thanks for everything.**

_"Their words mostly noises, ghosts with just voices. Your words in my memory are like music to me. I'm miles from where you are. I lay down on the cold ground. I pray that something picks me up, and sets me down in your warm arms. After I have travelled so far, we'd set the fire to third bar. We'd share each other like an island until, exhausted, close our eyelids. And dreaming picks up from the last place we left off. Your soft skin is weeping, a joy you can't keep in."-Snow Patrol_

I ran the brush through my hair, root to tip, root to tip; watching the way the light from the setting sun turned the yellow strands to a shining gold. I'd taken to doing this every night when the sun was setting just because I liked the color my hair turned. I even left my reading and writing lessons earlier just to get here before supper. I almost looked like one of those angels, the messengers of the Christian god.

I set down the brush, but stayed sitting in front of the vanity, just looking out over the multitude of hills that hid this estate from the rest of the world. The view from this room was so much better than my old one, and I found myself up here a lot, just staring out. It was peaceful, unlike the turmoil my head and heart seemed to be in most times.

After that day seven months ago when Marius attacked me, I'd decided to move to Alecto's room permanently. No one asked me what prompted my decision. They all just assumed that I wanted to be with my husband. Marisa had her suspicions, of course, but the closer she got to the birth of her baby, the further the thought was pushed from the forefront of her mind. My suspicions were proven correct, and Marius had never visited me in this room. Whenever I was out of it, I made sure to have a servant with me. It was unnecessary most of the time though, as Alecto had now taken to being my own personal shadow these last couple months.

There was a movement, a slight rolling motion in my belly that seemed to be reminding me why Alecto felt the need to follow me around protectively. Looking down, my belly was now one large, round mound instead of the flat plane it used to be. I ran my hand over the skin protecting my unborn baby, a slight smile forming over my lips.

Pregnant. The news came about five months ago. I'd spent the month before that in a routine that didn't change much. I would vomit in the morning, cry most of my afternoons, and then be ravenously hungry with a raging temper by nighttime. Fulcinia had noticed my change of demeanor, and had a healer confirm her suspicions. I should be having my baby only about two months from now.

Most people had expressed the usual concerns: who could be the wet nurse, a room for the child when it was old enough to sleep away from Alecto and I, announcing the pregnancy to family and friends, raising a child when the Woads were riled up more than usual…those sorts of things. I had only one main concern: who was the father of the child?

Marisa and I had spoken of it together in whispers one night. She said that Alecto had a very slim chance of actually being the father, as we only coupled once. I agreed. And besides, I just had this strange feeling, a sense that the baby I carried within my womb was not my husband's. This baby was not a little Roman noble. It was a Sarmatian, the child of a knight. I just knew, although I didn't know how.

My next problem was Tristan himself. I wanted to tell him, but Marisa had warned me from doing so. She feared that he might come storming into the house without worrying of the consequences, and that suspicion probably wasn't very far from the truth. Tristan would not want another man raising his child, so his whole plan of waiting for him to be discharged would exit his thoughts if he knew I was pregnant.

Alecto remained blissfully ignorant of this though, and was my escort from nearly dawn until dusk. Despite that, we had not grown closer as husband and wife, but instead held onto a relatively close friendship instead. He'd even convinced his father to let me learn to read, which I spent a lot of time doing now that I wasn't allowed to walk around much anymore. I hadn't mastered the written language completely yet, but I was still well on my way to being an educated woman. It pleased me beyond belief, giving me some sense of power and control over my own life. I didn't have much independence, but what I did have, I clung onto with a vice grip.

Marisa and Ganis wed five months ago. The only person in attendance was me, their official witness. I admittedly became teary-eyed watching my glowing friend as she looked at Ganis. It reminded me of my own love, and how much I wished that we could be the ones to wed. But I still congratulated them both, and gave Marisa two weeks off from her duties to become situated in her new dwelling with her husband.

Only a month ago, Marisa gave birth to her daughter, Lelia. She was adorable; porcelain skin, pink cheeks, dark brown eyes, and a tuft of black hair on the crown of her head. There was always a smile on her round little face, and she was certainly the most docile babe I had ever come across.

At that moment, the door opened and Marisa came scuttling in, closing it quickly behind her. "I apologize for being late," she said earnestly. "Lelia has not been sleeping well."

"It seems that you have not either," I replied, observing her disshelved appearance. Her hair was sticking out from her braid in several places, there were large bags of tiredness beneath her bloodshot eyes, and she had forgotten to put one sandal on. "Are you ill?"

She shook her head, and put one hand over her eyes. "No, but when your child does not sleep, you do not. It is draining, I assure you." She opened her fingers, and peaked through them at me with a slight smile on her lips. "You will know soon enough, my friend."

I looked down at my pregnant belly once more. "Yes, I will." I looked back at her, and smiled understandingly. "I do not require your services at this time, Marisa. You may return to your domicile for the night."

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped, realizing that I was giving her extra time to sleep. "Thank you," she said, sounding relieved, before nearly running out the door she entered from.

I stood up from my stool, nearly toppling over from the effect of being top-heavy, and wobbled over to the bed. On the nightstand on my side of the bed was a vase full of gardenias that Marisa always made sure were fresh. I leaned down to sniff one, and closed my eyes contently. The smell of these had quickly come to remind me of home. Even though I did not have a dwelling in which I felt that way, the feeling was personified in one being: Tristan. He was my home, even though it felt as if it had been years since we'd seen each other. I still loved him with every inch of my heart, and wanted nothing more than for his service to be done with so that we could be together. Me, him, and our child. We would be a family.

I grinned widely at the thought as I climbed into bed, pulling the covers up over my shoulder. I stared at the flowers, recalling each memory of Tristan that I held within my heart. As sleep became closer and closer, I could almost feel his hands on my face, his lips on mine, and hear his voice on the night, promising me that he would always return for me.

/\/\/\/\/\

When I woke the next morning, Alecto was just about to leave. He smiled at me, and I smiled weakly back, stretching as best as I could, my big belly making it a bit awkward.

"Did I wake you?" he asked quietly coming up next to the bed to smooth my hair out of my face. I'd become used to the small gestures like that. They used to make me feel uncomfortable, but they seemed to come naturally to Alecto, not seeming at all strange to him.

I shook my head. "No, I simply cannot sleep with this child kicking around," I sighed, staring down at my large belly.

I could almost hear Alecto's proud smile. "He'll be strong, a warrior and a leader."

I frowned. I didn't want that life for my child. I wanted he or she to live peacefully, preferring them to be educated over privileged. Then I remembered that it didn't really matter what Alecto wanted for this child, as it was not his and he would not be raising it. Tristan would come for me and our baby.

"We can only hope," I said quietly.

Alecto kissed my forehead, and left the room. I remained in bed for awhile, trying my best to follow my bed rest order. I began to fidget after twenty minutes, and was nearly twitching with repressed energy after an hour. Finally, I gave up on obedience, and rose from the bed. If I couldn't leave my room, I could at least find something to do in here.

I sat at the vanity first, and plaited my own hair down my back. By the time I was done, the sun had just risen. I was looking through a trunk filled with dresses when Marisa came in. It didn't surprise me that she had Lelia held close to her body in a small sling I had gifted to her so she could have her hands free for work while still keeping her daughter close to her. All I could see of the child were her arms, which were waving wildly around outside of her nesting place.

"What are you doing?" Marisa gasped, walking swiftly over and grabbing my elbow. "You are supposed to be in bed!"

"I'm sick of lying in bed!" I snapped back, trying to pull myself out of her grip while she dragged me back to bed. "It's utterly _dull_! You were always on your feet while you were pregnant! You were working up until the day before you gave birth! And look at your daughter: perfectly healthy and beautiful!"

She pushed me as roughly as she dared down onto the bed. I was so off-balanced by my large abdomen that it didn't take much force to knock me over anyway. "I am a slave who is used to working through tough conditions. You are a Roman lady, you-"

"I was a slave much longer than I have been a Roman lady," I reminded her. "And if a Roman lady wishes to move around, she can move around!"

"Not when she is endangering her child!" Marisa exclaimed. Lelia gurgled from inside her sling, almost like she was emphasizing her mother's words. "Now stay, and I will bring you something to eat."

She left, and I complied, pulling the blankets back over me while muttering angrily under my breath. I was sitting with my arms crossed moodily on top of my belly when Marisa returned with a tray full of fruit and bread. I didn't acknowledge her as I started eating, but she pulled the covers back and began to rub soothing oils into my aching legs and feet.

By the time I was done eating, I was so relaxed that I couldn't even be angry anymore. Marisa helped me walk to a chair on the balcony, took the tray of food away, and left me alone once again. I had nothing to do but watch the progress of several birds outside as they fought over one worm. Sometimes I felt like that worm, like the people around me were handing me off one to the other, each of them ripping off pieces of me before I was snatched away by the next person who just wanted to take something else from me.

Maybe I was just being melodramatic. Many woman would kill to be in my position, aching heart or not. My every whim was taken care of, and the man I had married was very good to me even though I expressed very little interest in him. Perhaps I should stop wallowing in the bad parts of my life, and focus on the good.

I heard the doors to the bedroom open, and turned to see who had come to see me. My heart plummeted when it was Marius who was staring back at me. His face was blank, hiding whatever this conversation was going to be about. I thought of the last time we were alone, and adrenaline began to pump through my veins. The baby responded by kicking feverishly. I rubbed my hand in soothing circular motions against my stomach to calm him down.

Marius stopped when he was directly in front of me, and watched my hand caressing my stomach. I was beginning to feel very suspicious about what was going to happen. Did he want to try and force me into bed again? Would he harm the baby? Was he going to…_kill_ me? His eyes were telling me nothing.

Without speaking, he took something out of the folds of his clothing, and set it down on the railing of the balcony. My heart did a strange little twisting motion. It was Tristan's knife, the one I'd lost the night of the fight with Marius. I'd sliced his arm with it, and then dropped it in the scuffle.

"I am going to skip pretenses here," he suddenly snarled, making me jump slightly in my chair at how suddenly the air had went from quiet to charged with tension. "You know what this is, you recognize it. You used it against me, and you left it behind. I would have only been a bit concerned at your intentions with owning something like this if I had not seen the symbols, which I recognized as of Sarmatia."

I was feeling very nauseous all of a sudden. I did my best to look confused, but Marius's eyes were glinting with hatred and malice. I was afraid, I was anxious, but most of all, I wanted Tristan more than ever.

"I sent a letter to a friend of mine in Rome," he continued. "He is learned in the language and ways of the Sarmatians. I received his response earlier today." He picked the blade back up, and ran his thumb over the flat side of the blade, where Tristan had carved symbols one night while sitting across from me in the garden. "Do you know what these mean, Xanthe?"

I didn't know what those marks meant, but I did know it was in my best interest to do nothing, so that was what I did. I wanted to stop moving my hand against my stomach, but I couldn't. The thought of the welfare of my baby was the only thing keeping me from sprinting out of the room. Even if I did run, there was nothing I could do. I was cornered, and Marius knew this.

"This one," he tapped the one closest to the hilt, "is the crest of a tribe, specifically the Rhoxolani. This," he pointed to the one in the middle, "means 'hawk'. And this one," he tapped the one that was at the edge of the blade, "means 'warrior'."

I had to force myself to keep my eyes on Marius. I didn't want to seem guilty or fearful, but that was exactly what I was. My skull seemed to be closing in around my brain, and I could only think one thing: I am going to die today.

"Separately they mean nothing, of course," Marius continued, "but I have been informed that together, they are the brand of one Sarmatian knight; the scout whom I believe is called Tristan." I could have slapped myself when I flinched at the sound of his name in Marius's voice. His expression switched to seem somewhat amused at my reaction. He knew that I knew I was caught. "My acquaintance also told me that it would not be taken lightly amongst their kind to give something with their crest on it to a woman. This is a symbol of devotion, something to ward off any man who would think of attempting to take what is his…this is a claim. Tell me, Xanthe, why would a Sarmatian knight who came to see you wed be staking a claim on you?"

I was going to die. Tristan would come back for me, and would find only a grave. My baby would die with me. He'd never get to see this world. I was a fool, and soon I would be a dead fool.

When Marius remained quiet, I realized he intended for me to answer him this time. I could feel myself being trapped. I kept my expression carefully blank so as not to alert him to the fact that I was close to crying with fear. The women caught being unfaithful were often stoned to death. They might even hang me straight from the walls to set an example to the serfs. I was doomed. Tristan couldn't save me now.

"He gave it to me," I croaked, voice thick with the fear I was unsuccessful at hiding and the tears my eyes yearned to shed. "I did not know what they meant."

Marius didn't look amused anymore. "Another sin, and this one straight from between your teeth," he hissed. "But you must be well used to doing so by now! How easy the lies just slip from you lips, you _common whore_!"

I gasped. At that comment, I realized how angry I was. Who was he to accuse me of sinning? He was the devil himself in human form! My blood was boiling, as I snarled, "Do not _dare_ to accuse me of sinning when you have done so much more than me! You attempted to take me yourself, so do not act as if you are an innocent man of God! You are closer to Hell's gates than I could ever be!"

The back of his hand connected with my cheek, my head snapping to the left from the impact. It stung, and I stared at him with shock. The baby was practically writhing at this point.

I opened my mouth to yell some more, but I froze when Marius grabbed my face in one of his large hands, and held Tristan's dagger to my throat with the other. I looked straight ahead, afraid to make eye contact and possibly infuriate him more.

"If you were of no use to me," he hissed in my ear, "I would kill you right here. It would not be difficult for everyone to believe that the Woads got you." I swallowed nervously, and the dagger pressed more firmly against my neck in response. "But once you have given birth…you will go back to your former beauty, and then you will be of use to me. Don't think you can escape this time."

I shuddered in disgust when his lips trailed across my cheek. "I will not tell Alecto what you have done," he said. I barely hid my surprise. "That would ruin my fun. Instead, as punishment for your sins…" his hand clenched tighter on my jaw, possibly leaving bruises, "I am sending you away. Far away. Where your knight will never be able to get to you. You see, lovely Xanthe, Rome is withdrawing from Briton." I was surprised by that declaration, but my face remained stoic. "It will take time to get our affairs in order, but eventually, Fulcinia and Alecto and I will join you. We are moving away from this place, and we shall leave your indiscretion behind as well."

He shoved my head away from him, and stood up straight. I just sat there, not even fighting the tears that were welling up. I could see Marius smirking at me from out of the corner of my eye.

"It is for your own good, of course," he said smugly. "Life in Rome will do you good. You may…grow closer to God. You leave tomorrow morning."

He actually laughed as he left the room, but I ignored him, clenching my fists onto the arms of my chair so forcefully that it hurt my fingers. Rome. I was being forced to move across the sea. It would take Tristan years to find enough money to pay for boat passage across the ocean, and then even longer to find me in such a large place. I thought dying was a terrible punishment, but now this seemed infinitely worse.

There was only one chance for us to be together again, and I had to take it. I stood up from the chair on my fourth attempt, and wobbled as fast as I could to Alecto's writing desk. I picked up a small blank scroll of parchment, and laid it out before me.

I couldn't ride a horse without harming the baby, and Marius will have already made it impossible for me to leave on foot without being caught. He'd have guards posted at any exit points. So my only chance will be this letter. I just hope that Arthur will be able to translate it for him.

_Tristan,_

_Marius knows. He found your dagger, and had the symbols translated. I do not think he expects that you intended to come for me, but it matters not now. We are moving, back to Rome. He is sending me ahead of them to keep me away from you. He says the Christian influence will erase the adulteress thoughts from me, but it has done nothing for him, has it?_

_I leave tomorrow. I do not even know if this will even reach you by the time you are discharged, but I need to tell you not to come to Marius's estate for me. It is too dangerous. I believe his true intention by sending me away is to catch you in the act of trying to whisk me away and having you executed for it, or for you to come for me and think that I no longer wish to be with you when I am not there and then give up on me and leave. Either way, it is ludicrous._

_I do not think you a fool, so I know warning you not to come to Rome would be foolish. A man like you would never be tainted by such a corrupted empire, a place where hypocrites are bred like prized cattle. It is too vast for you to find me within its maze anyway._

_I do not know how time has effected your feelings for me, but I hope they remain unchanged. If so, I pray that you are able to wait for me despite the time that has and will pass. I suppose this is a true test of the Christian God. I will pray every night that you will still be willing to run away with me when this is all over. If you are there, I will never doubt His existence again._

_As for me, I still dream of you, see you behind my eyelids whenever they are closed. You are in my every thought, my love. Sometimes I lie in bed or am doing nothing of consequence when my heart will suddenly make itself known with frenzied beats that burn my chest. Perhaps it is a foolish romantic notion, but I like to think that, even over the distances between us, our hearts are still linked together as one. Do you feel it too? Is it yours that I feel in my chest in those moments?_

_I suppose I should end this letter by telling you that I love you, have always loved you. I will count the hours until our reunion, and whisper your name into silences to fill them with all of the memories I have of you, hoping that you will hear me wherever you are. Please do not lose faith in me, Tristan. You are my anchor to this life._

_Xanthe_

I read it over a few times before deciding that it was satisfactory. I chose not to tell him about his child, knowing that it would only rile him up and make him want to come for me. It was better if he didn't know until we were together again. He would be angry when he found out, I knew, but he was rational enough to understand how dangerous it would have been if I told him. I rolled the scroll back up and tied it hurriedly before slipping from the bedroom. I walked as quickly and silently as I could down the empty halls, a feat in itself because of how large I was. I just hoped I wouldn't run into any guards, or more frightening: Marius.

I reached my destination without seeing anyone, and I slipped into the main bedroom of the house silently. I turned around, and Fulcinia was looking at me almost as if she expected me. Several moments passed in silence.

"He has told Alecto and I that you wish to go to Rome to study more about our Lord," she informed me tonelessly. "But I suppose I knew right away that he was lying. Now that you are here, I am sure of it." I just stared at her, trying not to cry. "He knows, doesn't he?"

Tears spilled over before I could stop them. "Yes," I said, voice breaking. I took unsteady steps towards her, until we were only a foot apart. "We share a secret, Fulcinia. We know something about the other that few outsiders know. Which is why I need to ask a favor of you." She stayed quiet, waiting for me to ask. I pressed the scroll into her hand. "Use the messenger you trust to get your letters to Secondus. Please make sure this gets to Tristan. I beg you."

"Do you really think he will come to Rome to retrieve you?" she asked disbelievingly. "He did not seem so stupid."

I shook my head. "No, this is simply telling him to stay away, telling him that I am safe but not in Briton."

She appeared to think about it, her hands turning the scroll over and over between her fingers. I watched her for any signs of compliance, knowing that I had no plans other than this one. If she said no, all would be hopeless.

Finally, she nodded. "This I can do."

**I'm going to assume that you all want to assassinate me, which is understandable. But just...don't kill me yet. At least wait until the story's over. ;)**

**So leave me a review letting me know what you think...a.k.a. telling me that you hate me for giving you such a downer of an update after such a long absence.**


	19. Stay Still

**Jesus, what has it been? Two months? Damn! But anyway, I've returned, and with chapter...18, is it? I have no idea anymore.**

**So yeah, I know I'm probably disappointing you guys with the long waits, but I'm having trouble with this story. Like, I always know the major events that will happen in the chapters, but I can never figure out the in-betweens. It's pretty frustrating. But I'm **_**definitely **_**going to finish this, fear not!**

**So there's like two chapters after this. I might blend them into one long one, but I think it might be long to the point of ridiculousness. So probably two. But yeah.**

**Without further ado, I give you chapter...whatever. Just read it. :)**

_"Tonight is gone. They tell you it's your time, but I won't let them take you from me. And I never gave up on you. We all feel the same. Can't stop this suffering in my head, can't turn this one around. If I could pull you from the wreckage, we'd be alright. Oh lord, don't tell me this is happening. If I could hold you for a second, we'd be alright. Oh lord, don't tell me this is happening. So when does it start getting better? So far from home. The lights are fading out. Just leave this all behind. I never should have let you go. Take me with you. I'm dying on my own, and I know I'm not the only one."-blessthefall_

My fingers slowly caressed the soft white petals of the flower in my hand. The familiar scent wafted over my nostrils, and I breathed it in. My eyes left the purity of the gardenia to watch the guards as they lifted up my two trunks, which contained all of my worldly possessions, and began to carry them to the carriage that awaited me outside. I was leaving in only a few minutes to go to sea, and then to Rome.

I felt strangely numb. I must have let all of my emotions out last night, when I stood in the garden on the same spot where Tristan and I would go during the nights, and cried for hours. In that moment, I considered simply leaping off of the side of the boat while at sea, but the thoughts of the growing life inside me would never allow me to go through with that plan. I wouldn't forsake my child along with me.

I picked my black cloak up from the bed, and fastened it around my neck with slightly shaking hands. As I reached up to sweep my hair out of it, two hands beat me to it.

I turned around, and was unsurprised to find Alecto standing there with a sad smile. He'd acted normal at supper last night, and I had not seen him before bed as I spent nearly my whole night in the garden. But now he was letting it show how he really felt about my supposed need for a sudden religious expedition. As we stood just looking at each other, the smile slid from his face, and he stared at me without hiding his dejection.

"Must you go?" he asked quietly. "You do not have to."

I smiled at that, though the gesture was humorless. "Yes, I do. You will join me soon enough."

"That is exactly my point," he said gruffly, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. "You could simply travel with us when we go instead of leaving early."

I shook my head. "I have made my choice, Alecto. I must go."

He sighed, and stared at the ground. I looked at him, and realized how much he had changed since I first met him. He was taller than me now, and continued to grow every day. I wouldn't be able to see over his shoulder within a month. His face lost all traces of baby fat, leaving behind a sharp, angled jaw and prominent cheekbones. He was certainly growing to be an attractive man. It was a shame that I could never feel for him the way a woman was supposed to feel for her husband. I wished I could give him what he wanted.

I stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around him. He returned the embrace without hesitation, and we stood there silently. When I pulled away, he quickly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, and I pretended I didn't see the tears glistening there.

"I would have every priest in Rome sail over if it would keep you here," he said sullenly. "I will not even see my child born."

I flinched when he said, 'my child', as I always did, but quickly recovered. "I know," I replied. "But you will meet him or her when the time comes."

"I will miss you," he said suddenly.

I took a step back, but he held onto my hand so that our arms extended between us. "Goodbye, Alecto," I whispered, pulling my fingers from his grasp, and walking briskly from the room.

As I walked through the familiar halls for the last time, I traced my hands over the smooth stone walls, lingering over some spots and hastening past others. Even though I had never truly been able to call this place home, the best moments of my life had occurred in this place…and the worst. Within the months that I had lived here, my life had drastically changed. It was odd really; I didn't want to stay, but I didn't want to leave either.

I stepped outside the large double doors at the front of the estate, into the cool morning air. A carriage with two horses attached to it was parked there. Two brawny guards were loading my belongings onto it, and four more surrounded the carriage on horseback to see us safely to the ship. The coachman walked up to me, and bowed deeply.

"We are prepared to leave whenever you see fit, milady," he said.

I opened my mouth to tell him I was ready, but running footsteps halted my words. I turned, and saw Marisa jogging towards me with Lelia under one arm, and holding a beaten up leather sack in the other. She had a thick woolen cloak wrapped around her, and her eyes were bloodshot from crying. She walked right past me, and held out her bag to one of the soldiers that had been moving my luggage.

"If you will, sir," she said. The guard's eyes flicked to me, and then he took the bag and loaded it behind my things. I gasped, realizing what she was trying to do.

"Oh no, Marisa!" I said, shaking my head. "I cannot let you do this! You and Ganis-"

"Ganis understands," she said simply, sniffing and hoisting Lelia up further and forcing a smile on her face. "If I allowed you to go to Rome by yourself, what sort of friend would I be? No, I will stay with you."

"But-"

"Get in the carriage, Xanthe," she said darkly, pointing at it.

I sighed, giving up on arguing with the stubborn woman, and as I walked passed her, whispered, "Thank you."

The coachman held open the door for both of us, and we clambered in, sitting on opposite sides. The seats were cushioned and lined with red velvet. I leaned against the side of the wall, staring out of the window. Marisa sat in the very middle of her seat, protectively cradling her daughter. I didn't fail to notice the tears building in her eyes even though she wiped them away before they fell.

The carriage jolted into motion, and we trundled towards the gate. There were two guards on either side of us, riding their horses with stoic expressions, eyes darting to every corner of the landscape to catch any Woad attacks that may befall us.

As we passed through the gates at the edge of the estate, I took one last look back at the manse through the window in the back of the carriage. Alecto, Marius, and Fulcinia stood at the top of the wall, watching us go. Alecto raised one hand in farewell, a mournful look on his face. Marius's blank expression betrayed no emotion, though his eyes glinted with sick triumph at having won what he saw as a private fight between the two of us. Fulcinia and I locked eyes, and she nodded once. It was a silent sign that my message to Tristan had been delivered. I waved at them, and then turned around, unable to look any longer.

A kick from inside my belly had me placing a gentle hand on top of the baby growing inside me. I made a silent promise to my child right then and there: that I would never let it see pain as I have. I would save it from all of it. It would never have a broken heart.

/\/\/\/\/\

After hours of the slow procession towards the sea, I turned to Marisa, and said, "I have never seen the ocean. Have you?"

She nodded, pulling down the strap of her chemise to feed her daughter. "I am originally from Rome. I was brought over as a child to serve a different Roman family before I came to Marius and Fulcinia," she informed me.

"What is it like?" I asked curiously.

She smiled. "It is a calming tormentor. You have no desire to be near it, yet you are drawn to it. It takes you away from everything you love, but you cannot help but envy its beauty. It is like falling in love with a man who kidnapped you. It is a living being that will embrace you or shun you as it sees fit. It loves, it hates, and it breathes."

I raised an eyebrow. "I think you may be fooling me, Marisa."

She laughed slightly, and shook her head, sending her curls bouncing. "I am not. I assure you, my friend, it is like nothing you have ever experienced or will ever experience again. You will see when we arrive."

I nodded, and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the carriage wall.

An image of Tristan appeared behind my eyelids. Projected from my heart, the image was so clear, more true to him than any painting could have been. His golden eyes bore into mine, and his lips moved, saying those three words I desperately yearned to hear. I opened my mouth to say them back, but instead of words, water spilled out of my mouth like a waterfall. It drenched both of us within seconds, and then began to fill the area around us. I clutched my throat, unable to breathe from the torrent of water leaving my throat.

The water continued to rise. I heard Tristan call out to me and my hands searched for him, but the waves were pulling us apart. Soon the water had taken up the entire land, and rose and fell around me in great torrents that would not allow me to find Tristan. I heard him shouting for me, but my inability to breathe was taking its toll. My eyes began to droop, and my chest burned…

I sat up in the carriage, breathing hard and scraping at my throat to get the water out, scratching at the skin with my nails and making myself bleed. I frantically gulped in breaths of air, and convulsed in my seat. I could feel my child rolling around in my stomach from my own stress. Marisa was holding my arms so I would stop scraping my neck, and desperately asking me what was wrong.

The carriage stopped, and a guard wrenched the door open, barging in with his sword drawn. When he saw what was happening, he asked, "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know!" Marisa exclaimed, still wrestling with me to keep my arms away from my face. "She was asleep, and then she woke up and started having this fit!"

"I can't _breathe_!" I finally managed to scream, still reaching for my throat. "Help me!"

"I cannot unless you tell me what is wrong!" Marisa said, keeping her eyes on mine. "What is it?"

"TRISTAN!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

After my shout, everything seemed to freeze. I stopped fighting Marisa, realizing that I had no reason to. She stared at me sadly, hands still gripping my wrists. The guard suddenly looked awkward, averting his eyes to the ground. No sound even came in from the open door.

"Tell the coachman to keep going," Marisa said quietly. When the guard didn't move, she snapped, "Now!"

He dipped his head respectfully, and shut the door as he left. The second the lock snapped closed, my eyes began to water, and I let out a sob, that I quickly muffled behind my hand. Marisa caught me when I crumpled towards the ground, and held me as I lamented my pain to the world, screaming sobs echoing around us in the cabin. I figured the guards and coachman could probably hear us, but they did not matter to me then. What did matter was that I would never see Tristan again unless it was in my memories.

My heart would never beat the same again.

/\/\/\/\/\

When we finally arrived at the coast, I was feeling rather weak. My tears stopped, but I remained slumped over on Marisa in my depression. I was still having trouble getting air into my lungs, all of my breaths coming out in wheezing gasps. Marisa was holding my head in her lap, and stroking my hair, promising me that things would be okay.

The coachman opened the door, and the same guard as before poked his head in. "We are here, milady."

"Lady Xanthe is not feeling well," Marisa said in a stony voice. "I will need your assistance to help her onto the ship."

He nodded, and held out his hand to me. I pressed my shaking palm into his much bigger one, and he helped me up, lifting me by the waist to get me out of the carriage. He set me on my feet, and I felt something squishy roll over the tops of my sandals. I wiggled my toes in it. Sand.

"Oi, you!" the guard said, pointing to his youngest companion. "C'mere, and help me."

They both took one of my arms, and held me between them as they turned me around. It was then that I caught my first glimpse of the sea.

How do you describe something so devastatingly beautiful? The water sparkled beneath the setting sun, moving into every shade of blue imaginable. Waves crashed onto the beach, roaring their songs towards the sky. The water moved as one and as separate entities, seeming to go on forever, taking the sky with it. The air smelled of salt and of rain, and was damp enough to leave crystalline droplets of water on my hair.

"It's gorgeous," I whispered.

"Aye, miss," said the second soldier, also looking on with amazement. I guessed he'd never seen the ocean before either. "That it is."

I heard Lelia start crying from somewhere close behind me, and then Marisa trying to comfort her. I turned my head slightly to look at my greatest friend in this world. "I am so tired, Marisa," I whispered.

All I knew after that was darkness.

/\/\/\/\/\

When I woke up, I thought someone was trying to upset my bed. I opened my eyes, and saw a wood ceiling with identical walls and floor. I blinked, and then realized why it felt like I was moving: I was on a ship. My journey must have begun.

I sat myself up against the pillows, and observed my quarters. There wasn't much in the cabin except for a sturdy oak dresser, my two trunks, this bed, a chamber pot, an empty wash basin, and an arm chair which had been positioned next to my bed. I looked down at myself, noting that I was in my nightgown. I hoped it was Marisa who changed me rather than one of those guards or a sailor.

The door to my room opened, and Marisa backed in, carrying a tray laden with food. She beamed when she noticed I was awake. "Ah! There you are! I was wondering when I would see those pretty eyes of yours again!" She bustled over, and set the tray on my lap. There was a bowl of stew with some bread, and a cup of water. I realized how hungry I was, and started to wolf it down.

Marisa sat down comfortably in the chair, and observed me while I ate. There was a hint of some emotion in her eyes that unsettled me. It looked like…pity.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked between bites.

"Long enough for the coastline of Briton to disappear behind us," she said sadly. "It is dark now."

I nodded, and pushed the tray away, having finished everything. "Where is Lelia?"

Marisa grinned. "Sleeping like a log in my room. It is rather boring when neither of you are awake to entertain me."

I scoffed. "I am glad we amuse you so."

Marisa took the tray, and set it on the floor near the door before coming back to her chair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

I thought about it, and decided, "My head aches, and it is still a chore to breathe."

"I thought you might say something like that," she muttered. "There is no healer on board. I am afraid we may have to wait until we arrive in Rome. That will be days."

I nodded thoughtfully. "I should be fine by that time. It is just…the shock of leaving my homeland, I suppose."

Marisa agreed, but she did not look convinced. "You really scared me back there," she whispered quietly.

I looked down shamefully. "I apologize. I don't even know what happened."

"I understand. I know you must be hurting, but you need to focus on yourself for now. If you don't…you'll end up tearing yourself apart."

"Such wise words for a young woman," I said teasingly. I took her words to heart though, acknowledging that she was right.

She scoffed. "I am at least a year your senior, so _you_ are the young woman here."

"I feel old," I admitted, rubbing my stomach. The baby normally responded when I did so, but remained still this time. "I am married and with child."

"Not to mention you have experienced the pain of a much older woman," Marisa added in a whisper.

I shrugged. "There is no age limit on pain," I pointed out.

"Such wise words for a young woman," Marisa said, throwing my own words back at me. We smiled at one another, and then Marisa stood, taking my tray with her.

"You should get some sleep, my friend," she suggested. "There is no better cure for illness than sleep and tea, and I'm afraid we have no tea."

Chuckling, I replied, "Alright then."

"My room is right across from yours. If you need me, just yell and I will be here," Marisa said as she walked towards the door.

"Goodnight Marisa."

"Goodnight Xanthe."

She closed the door behind her as she left, and I put out the lantern next to my bed, enveloping the room in complete darkness. I rolled onto my side, and closed my eyes. Part of me was afraid to go to sleep, not wanting to have the dream about the water again. I shuddered at the thought of it.

A sudden sharp pain pierced my chest, and I gasped, grabbing the effected area with my hand. It was gone as quick as it came, and I relaxed again. It was odd, but I decided to chalk it up to the breathing trouble I was still experiencing. It was like I'd forgotten how to hold air in my lungs.

I rested my hand against my round belly, a gesture that always comforted me. I knew that as long as I had this baby, then I would have a reason to carry on. I would always be broken over Tristan, but this child would give me a reason to look past it.

The thought put a small smile on my face, and sleep finally found me.

/\/\/\/\/\

The next day was rather boring. The captain and first mate came to introduce themselves to me, so Marisa had me dress in one of my finer dresses. The men were both nice enough, but seemed very cautious about having a pregnant woman onboard. I assured them that I was not due for more than a month, but they did not relax any.

After they left, I wanted to go onto the deck, but Marisa wouldn't let me. She'd noticed the slight grimace on my face from the pain my chest was causing me, and refused to let me go anywhere. She made me put my nightgown back on, and get back to bed. I spent the rest of the day practicing my reading with one of the books I packed.

I became bored with reading after an hour or so, and decided to just take a nap. I laid the book down on my nightstand, rolled to my side, and shut my eyes.

Tristan was there again. We stood on the beach, the ocean lapping at our feet. The sun was low in the sky, preparing to disappear for the night. I wrapped my arm's around Tristan's neck, and leaned into him.

"I miss you so," I breathed into his chest.

"We will be together again," he murmured quietly, his arms tight around my waist. He dipped his head down to whisper in my ear, "I will never let you go."

I pulled away from his chest to look in his eyes, and smiled. I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss him, but was still too short. He knew what I wanted though, and leaned down to close the distance between us.

Just before our lips could touch, something grabbed the back of my hair, and wrenched me away from him. I cried out, and Tristan growled in fury as we were ripped away from one another.

"Cheating whore!"

I whirled around to see my captor, and found Alecto. His face was so contorted with hatred and fury that it barely resembled him. His eyes were completely black, and he was baring his teeth at me with rage.

"Whore!" he yelled again. "Now I know! That baby is not mine!" He ripped a dagger from a small sheath at his belt. "I'll cut it from your belly!"

"NO!" I screamed, trying to wrestle away from him as he tried to bring the sharp edge of the blade down into my womb.

Tristan lunged towards me, but, out of nowhere, Marius appeared, blade drawn. I screeched at the top of my lungs, pointing towards him, but Tristan didn't turn fast enough. Marius plunged his blade into Tristan's back until the tip stuck out of his front. Marius aimed an evil smile at me, and twisted the sword cruelly.

"Tristan!" I yelled brokenly, still struggling against Alecto's hold on me. "Tristan!"

He fell to the ground, clutching the bleeding wound in his front. His eyes met mine one last time, and then they closed. His blood stained the sand. He was dead.

"NO! NO, NO, NO!" I bellowed, pushing and struggling against Alecto.

Suddenly a strange tearing feeling ripped across my torso, and I stopped. I looked down at myself, and saw blood blossoming from my stomach where Alecto's blade was protruding out of. He pulled the dagger from me, and I fell to my knees. Blood poured from the gaping wound in me, dripping down my legs and onto the ground, mingling with the sand there.

I looked up, into Alecto's eyes, but they were empty. There was no satisfaction nor regret. There was nothing. "Join your knight in hell," he whispered, and then turned and strode away from me without remorse.

I fell sideways, holding my hands against myself, trying to keep my blood in. Just as I was wondering why there was no pain, a wave of agony shot through my body, starting from my lower abdomen where the wound was, and I opened my mouth to cry for help.

Instead, I woke up in my bed on the ship, panting and gasping for breath. Tears were streaming down my face, and pain was still emanating from my belly, the aftereffects of the dream.

I rolled onto my back, and took deep breaths to calm myself down. After several seconds, the pain left my body, and I just laid there, staring at the blackness surrounding me. I thought about lighting the lantern, but decided against it. I wiped the sweat from my forehead. It had completely drenched my hair and my nightgown. I wondered how long I'd been asleep.

I shifted my legs slightly, and felt something warm and sticky between my thighs, too thick to be sweat. I froze for a moment, trying to ignore the foreboding I felt. I pushed the covers off of me, and stared down in the general direction of my legs. I couldn't see them because it was so dark. I touched the skin, and my fingers came away soaked with moisture. A salty, almost rusty smell infiltrated my nostrils. I balked. Blood.

Pain ripped through my abdomen again, worse than the first time. My breathing hitched, and I fisted the sheets on either side of me in my hands, hearing them tear.

"MARISA!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "MARISA!"

She burst into the door a second later, holding a lantern in one hand. She was still fully dressed, and her face was etched with worry. "What's wrong?" she asked, coming closer to the bed. The light from the lantern glowed over the bed, and we both gasped.

The sheets were soaked with blood around my legs, as was my nightgown. It was gory. If I hadn't known, I would have thought that someone had brutally butchered someone to death in this bed.

Marisa hurriedly set the lantern down on the bedside table, and lifted up my nightgown, peering under it. She made a strangled sound. "Xanthe, your baby is coming!" she said frantically.

"What?" I gasped. "No! It's too soon!"

"Your child has decided differently," she said. She rolled up the sleeves of her gown. "I have to go get one of the men to help me! I'll be right back!"

I groaned in pain as she ran into the hall, yelling for help. Another wave of pain wracked over me, and my head fell on the pillow, my back arching towards the ceiling. I screamed with it, and tears poured from my eyes. I was starting to panic. This baby could not be coming now! I still had at least two months to go! Prematurity was never good. I was afraid for my child.

Marisa rushed back in with the first mate and a man I didn't know running behind her. The first mate's arm muscles bulged from the weight of the large bucket filled with steaming water, and the smaller man had his arms loaded down with blankets.

"And you have no healer aboard this ship?" Marisa asked frantically as she ripped the covers away from the bed, and started to place two rolled up blankets under my knees.

"No, miss," the first mate said. He looked slightly nauseous at the sight of my blood coating the sheets.

"Is there another woman onboard then?" she asked in a clipped tone, tying her hair back with a ribbon she had tied around her wrist.

"No."

She let out a noise of exasperation, and then climbed onto the bed, positioning herself between my knees. "Alright then. We shall have to improvise." She pointed a bony finger at the man who'd been holding the towels. "You. Go to my cabin, and look after my daughter. If a single hair on her head is out of place when I return, I will skin you alive. Is that clear?"

The man paled, but nodded and scurried out, closing the door behind him. Marisa rounded on the first mate next. "You will have to stay with me." He began to sputter unintelligibly, but Marisa was beyond patience. "Shut up! You are a man, a sailor, and yet you are not courageous enough to help a young woman giving birth?"

His eyes burned at the insult on his bravery, but he stood up straighter and cracked his neck. "What do I have to do?"

She nodded towards my left side. "Hold onto her hand for now."

He did as he was told, just as another wave of pain brutally tore through me. I let out a scream, and squeezed his fingers until mine were numb. I heard his breath hiss in between his teeth, but couldn't be bothered to feel bad for hurting him. The pain was bad to the point that my eyes started to roll in my head, and consciousness began to blur.

"Hey!" Marisa snapped, noticing how close to passing out I was. "Xanthe, stay awake! You have to stay awake! Slap her a little."

The first mate started to annoyingly tap my cheek with the palm of his hand until I swatted him away. I looked at Marisa as she separated my legs, and became instantly anxious at the look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I managed to gasp through the pain.

"Too much blood," she said, grabbing one of the towels, dipping it in the water, wringing it out, and wiping the blood up. "Way too much blood."

"What's going on? " I asked, starting to sob. "Is there something wrong with my baby?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. We will not until you give birth."

I groaned, and let my head hit the wall behind me. This was going to be a long night.

Time passed in a blur after that. It could have been hours or minutes, I wouldn't know. There was a lot of screaming, crying, pain, and fear. Marisa seemed to get more frantic as time went on, and the first mate had to leave my side in order to help Marisa stem my blood flow. I was beginning to grow dizzy when Marisa finally announced that she could see the head.

"This is it, Xanthe," Marisa said encouragingly. "Just push, okay? Push!"

I did as she said, but was having trouble holding my breath because I was so dizzy. I could only push for a couple of seconds at a time before black spots appeared before my vision. The pain was excruciating, like nothing I'd ever felt.

"Push, Xanthe! Just one more!" Marisa cried.

I let out a sob, but pushed as hard as I possibly could. I felt the child slide from me, and laid my head back down on the pillow in exhaustion. I closed my eyes, and groaned. After a few seconds of silence, I realized something was wrong. There was no crying. Children normally wailed after being brought into the world. I lifted my head up, but it felt much heavier than usual. Marisa was wrapping something up in a blanket with violently shaking hands. She offered it to the first mate, and he took it, giving her an odd look.

"Just…throw it overboard," she hissed, shooing him away. "And bring me more blankets!"

"Marisa," I said groggily. "Marisa, what's going on?"

"You're still bleeding," she said, holding a towel between my legs, pushing forcefully to stop the bleeding. Tears were building up rapidly in her eyes, and her chin quivered. She clamped her teeth down on her lower lip to stop it, but tears started to slide from her eyes.

"Where's my baby?" I asked, words slurring together. My vision was going blurry around the edges.

Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head sadly. "I am sorry, Xanthe…he was stillborn."

The whole world collapsed in on me, and I could not remember how to move or speak. So many emotions rushed through me at once: sorrow, anger, disappointment, regret, and guilt. I had no idea which one to focus on. In fact…how did one breathe?

"He?" I squeaked.

She nodded, starting to sob. "It was a b-boy."

Blackness swirled around my vision, and I closed my eyes. I welcomed unconsciousness like an old friend, willing to do anything to save myself from the crippling agony of losing my son…Tristan's son.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't hate me, okay? This was planned from the beginning. I always knew this would happen. So...don't think I'm purposefully doing this to be cruel. This is just part of the plot, and it leads to something bigger in the last two chapters.<strong>

**So I believe you guys gave me **_**eleven**_** reviews for the last chapter. That is seriously incredible. I can't thank you guys enough. And some of you have even stuck with me since chapter one, even through my annoying hiatuses and bullshit excuses. So thank you all, seriously. You make my days better, and I love you. :D**

**Review, and tell me how much you want to murder me for the end to this! (;**


	20. Leave Out All the Rest

**Hey there! Welcome to chapter nineteen! Which is going out on the nineteenth! That's my lucky number, so today better be good. At least I hope it will be, because it's my birthday! :D Seventeen, finally! I feel like I've been sixteen for a decade, haha. It's been a rough year though so that's probably why. But I figured a good birthday present for myself would be a nice long update for this story. (;  
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** But anyway, ladies and gents (if there are any gents even reading this), as I announced on my profile, I went through all of the chapters for this a couple nights ago, and edited them all. I had some major (extraordinarily annoying) plot holes that I fixed. Apparently, I originally had it so that Tristan's discharge was in three years, but that ended up making no sense. So I went back and fixed it all so that it was only a year. That's the only notable thing I did, other than grammar and spelling mistakes. Nothing you would have to go back and reread, promise. :)**

**Without further ado, CHAPTER NINETEEN! (Why am I screaming?)  
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_"I dreamed I was missing. You were so scared, but no one would listen 'cause no one else cared. After my dreaming, I woke with this fear. What am I leaving when I'm done here? And if you're asking me, I want you to know. When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done. Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed. Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memory. Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest. Don't be afraid. I've taken my beating. I've shared what I need. I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through. I've never been perfect, but neither have you."-Linkin Park_

My arrival in Rome was supposed to be grand and warm, but ended up being the exact opposite. By the time the ship docked on the coast, I was gravely ill, unable to remain conscious for more than a few minutes at a time. The blood loss from my miscarriage had taken a grave toll on my physical and mental well-being.

I do not remember much between the ship and the estate of Secondus and his wife, Daria. There are short snippets of sound, of Marisa banging on the carriage roof with her fist and demanding that the coachman drive faster as she clung to me tightly. I recall seeing a cloudless blue sky, and wondering vaguely if the sky looked the same to Tristan wherever he was in Briton before a woman with dark hair blocked my view. Her muffled voice shouted for the men carrying me on a litter to move faster before I lost consciousness again.

The next time I woke, I was much more lucid, but felt no better in general. I sat up, and observed my surroundings through cloudy eyes. The room I was in was furnished luxuriously with the finest furniture I'd ever laid eyes on. The marble floor was covered with a thick golden rug that went well with the honey tones of the walls. I was lying on a large four poster bed under a soft comforter the color of cream. There was an armoire draped with gold hangings on the far side of the room, next to a wash basin filled with steaming water. A couch trimmed with shining thread sat against the left wall, next to a bookcase filled completely with books in every shape and color. Curtains that matched the rug concealed the view from the three cathedral-like windows on the right wall, and the only door in the room was shut completely, cutting off any sound or sight from the outside world.

The most remarkable thing about this room was the sheer amount of flowers in it. There were vases filled with some sort of yellow flower on every single surface in the room: the top of the armoire, the bookcase, the two nightstands, and even the floor. They overflowed the room, leaving a sweet smell hanging in the air.

I looked down at myself, and sagged back against the pillows with grief. Beneath my white nightgown, my stomach was flat again. The signs of my pregnancy were gone, leaving only trauma and pain behind. I wrapped my arms around myself, curling up, and laying on my side in the fetal position.

I always knew I was not a tough woman. I never had guts like other slaves I'd worked with, the ones who defied their masters despite the fact that they knew they would be whipped for their impudence. I was not brave, and I was not daring. But knowing that I was not even strong enough to be able to bring my baby into this world left me with a feeling of worthlessness. All of that expectation and happiness building up for seven months, only to have it shot down in a single moment, one loaded word. Stillborn. Was there anything more cruel in this life than hearing that word? Had I ever felt worse pain? Not even watching Tristan ride away from me compared to this. I felt completely shattered.

I was still crying when the door opened. I halted my sobs, and looked up to see who it was. Marisa stood in the doorway, her hair pulled back tight against her head in a bun. She saw me awake, and for a second, she just looked completely emotionless. But then I let out another sob, and her eyes filled with tears as well.

She came over to the side of the bed, and climbed in with me, kneeling so that I could lay my head on her lap. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and cried with me.

"I'm so sorry, Xanthe, I'm so sorry," she kept repeating, whispering the words into my hair. I could not find any words to say, so I let my tears speak the words my heart wanted to scream to the heavens. My baby was dead before he even had a chance to live. The only man I have ever and will ever love is on the other side of the world. In that moment, my heart, metaphorically and truly, broke.

/\/\/\/\/\

Weeks after my arrival in the Holy City, I sat on the plush couch in my room, a book in my lap that I simply could not concentrate on. My mind kept returning to other things, haunting things that made the pieces of my heart moan with grief. I set the book aside, giving up on attempting to read it, and fisted both of my hands into the fabric of my black dress. I had favored the color lately. It was appropriate, given the circumstances.

Life in Rome was not an exciting experience. I stayed in my room nearly all the time, even taking meals in there. Whenever I'd left it, I immediately got the urge to run back, and hide myself away like a leper. I had not even seen any of the city besides what was beneath my window. It looked beautiful, but beauty did little to move me anymore.

I was still ill. I knew it, Marisa knew it, and I was certain that most in the house knew it by the way the servants eyed me cautiously, like they expected me to drop at any moment. I may have been able to move around more and leave my bed, but the early birth of my son had brought down my ability to fight off sickness. My chest often ached as if I had been struck, and I grew short of breath from the simplest activities. Healers were sent in every two weeks to assess me, and they always left with odd expressions, like they were stuck between feeling confused and hopeless.

There was a knock on my door. I stood from the couch and opened my mouth to tell them to enter, but the door burst open before I could. Daria, Secondus's wife, filed in, followed by a procession of servants each carrying a vase filled with fresh flowers. Each person went to a certain vase in the room, picked up the old flowers, replaced them, and then shuffled out in a straight line. After only a little over a minute, they were gone, leaving only Daria behind.

She was a very short woman, but also rather plump. She had black hair that fell in a mass of curls down her back. She was pretty enough, but the rude expressions she wore often made that hard to see. She was perpetually dressed in regal clothing, and bangles jingled on her arms from her wrists to her elbows. She always spoke to me in a clipped tone, giving me the impression that she did not really want me in her home.

Currently, Daria was flitting to each vase in the room, arranging the bouquets to her liking.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better," I replied, although it was not the truth.

She nodded once. "That will be because of the healers. The cures in Briton cannot possibly compare to the ones our Roman healers have developed." She sneered as she turned to examine the vase on my bedside table. "Especially the ridiculous witch doctors Fulcinia uses. That woman is cheap. Marius could have done much better."

Daria made rude comments about Fulcinia anytime I was in her vicinity. I had a feeling she knew how much her husband cared for his brother's wife. I always grit my teeth to prevent saying anything impolite back to her when she said those hurtful things about the woman who had helped me back when I thought I had no hope. I wanted to rebut, but I was staying in her home, so I had no right to speak out of turn here.

Daria continued to mumble under her breath as she circled around the room like an irritated vulture. I stayed standing, watching her, and biting my tongue to keep myself from saying anything back to her. Marisa suddenly swept into the room. Lelia was strapped into a sling that hung around her neck, gurgling and swinging her chubby arms around happily.

"Milady," Marisa said as she bowed slightly to the both of us. I attempted to hide my smile when Marisa rolled her eyes at me. Daria had forced her to start bowing whenever she was in the presence of the owners or guests of the house, including me, if she wanted to stay working with me. She did so begrudgingly, but I told her not to resort to formalities when it was only us.

Daria sniffed as she eyed Marisa, and then swept by her, leaving the room in a huff. Marisa glared after her as she shut my bedroom door.

"That woman is unbelievable," Marisa declared as she walked to my breakfast tray, and started to collect the dishes together.

I nodded in agreement, and slumped back onto the sofa. My hands instinctually went to hold my belly but I stopped mid-movement, and quickly redirected them to my lap. Marisa noticed, but pretended not to.

I rolled my shoulders, and gently massaged my upper arm with my right hand. Marisa watched me perplexedly. "What is wrong?" she asked.

"My left arm has been hurting today," I informed her. "I must have slept on it wrong."

"I'll be back in a moment with water for your bath, that should help," she said, before leaving the room with the tray in her hands.

I stared at my folded hands after she was gone, and wondered what it may have been like to hold my son in them. What would it have been like to see him grow, to teach him to walk and talk and read and write? If he looked anything like his father, he would have had girls chasing after him before he even saw his tenth year. That brought on a whole onslaught of images, ones that I'd tried to repress for fear of having dreams consume my mind.

I saw myself running away with Tristan, to his tribe in Sarmatia, where we would become bound together for life in traditional ceremonies. I would birth our son, and watch him grow with my love at my side. He would have his father's hair color and my eyes, and would want to be exactly like Tristan. I would teach him how to read, and Tristan would show him how to hunt. I saw another child, a girl with bright blond curls and golden eyes, and me and Tristan repeating the process of helping her to grow into a fine adult. I saw grandchildren, and I saw Tristan and I still adoring each other well into our elderly years.

Those dreams brought tears to my eyes and a pang to my chest. They were things that would never be, could never be. I had hoped for them for so long, but it was impossible now. I had lost my baby, and Tristan would never find me here.

Suddenly the pang in my chest changed to a sharp tightness that made me gasp. I clutched my chest tightly with one of my hands. Suddenly the feeling of being squeezed intensified into sharp pain, and the breath woodshed from my lungs. The pain in my arm intensified along with this new affliction. I cried out, and writhed in my seat. My eyes bulged as agony tore through me like acid in my veins. My vision swam, and my brain began to feel cloudy. All I knew was this pain that wracked through me. It felt like someone was trying to squeeze my upper body to death.

I fell to the floor, nearly convulsing as my body fought the pain. Black spots exploded in my eyes, and I heard the door to my bedroom open. The panicked shouts sounded much further away, miles even. I saw the face of a male servant as he lifted me up just before my eyes closed.

I'm dying.

That was my last thought before I knew no more.

/\/\/\/\/\

I was awake long before I opened my eyes. I felt strange, like I was floating. I might have flown away if it weren't for the strange heaviness in my chest that weighted me down. There were many thoughts in my head that danced just above where I could reach, taunting me. I wanted to know what they were, what they meant, but something about their darkness also made me wary. Something bad was happening, and the evidence was in the deep wounds these very thoughts left on my heart with their sharp claws. Still, I kept reaching with a need to understand. What has happened to me?

Disjointed voices floated in then, whispering to each other somewhere near me. I focused on them, desperate for contact.

"…on the floor with her arms wrapped around herself," a woman was saying. "I've heard talk that she was whispering as well. The same name, over and over again. 'Tristan'."

"Hmm…this is most curious," responded a male voice. "I do know she's had some sort of fit, and a bad one for her to have been unconscious so long. I cannot explain the chanting. Perhaps she was delusional. It would not surprise me. She must have been in a lot of pain."

It grew quiet, and I became anxious. I didn't even know these people, but I was afraid to be alone.

Don't leave me here. This place is frightening. Please tell me you're still here.

As if answering my request, the woman spoke again. "So what do you think has caused this?"

"I cannot be sure. It could be the stress of leaving the place she was born. It could be the miscarriage. She has been through many different hardships lately, ones that are never good for health. Perhaps it could even be something she ate. One can never be certain when it comes to matters of internal health. What I do know is this…the problem lies within her heart. It's as if…it has simply stopped working. Her heart has given up."

When the woman spoke again, her voice was a mere whisper. "Will she die?"

A pregnant pause, filled with significance that I could not decipher, and then, "It is a possibility."

"I must contact His Holiness," the woman said tensely. "He will want to know of this. She is married to my husband's nephew, Alecto. He is the pope's godson, and they are quite fond of each other. I think he may have Alecto and his family brought here for her."

"Understandable," the man replied. "She will be in pain when she wakes. Give her tea with those herbs in it. The pain will subside for awhile. It would be best to have her drink it every two hours while she's awake."

"Thank you for all of your help."

The voices started to move, though I silently called them back. There was a thump, and then they were gone completely.

I tried to locate my body, but I felt strangely disjointed. In fact, I couldn't really remember much before the conversation I just overheard. I knew they were talking about me and had a sense that their words should have alarmed me, but I could feel nothing. Emotions eluded me like the thoughts still dancing out of my reach.

Suddenly one thought floated down to me like it suddenly forgot how to fly. This one was not an angry memory. It was white hot with hope and happiness and love. It was the memory of a man with golden eyes, long black hair, and two claw mark tattoos on his cheekbones. He was whispering hopeful words to me beneath the moonlit night sky, and I felt safer than if I had an entire army at my back to defend me.

I clung to the image of his face as a sudden coldness wrapped around me like a blanket, taking me down into the darkness of before.

/\/\/\/\/\

Weeks passed in which I would only be awake for little spells. Normally, I would only be lively enough to eat something small, drink my medicinal tea, and then go back to sleep. I was never completely clearheaded during those times. My sanity seemed to go in and out like a candle flame nearing the end of its wick. Often I would see shadows flicking across the walls like strange dancers. They called to me, trying to lure me to them. I was afraid of their whispered offers, and would force myself to sleep whenever they appeared.

From what was explained to me by Marisa, the healers didn't really know what was wrong with me. They knew I was gravely ill, but they could find no external reason they could fix. It was like my body was giving up on me. I found the thought grimly comical. I was so weak on my own that even my body was jumping ship. I didn't voice the thought to Marisa. I could see just how frayed her nerves were already. She didn't need my pessimistic thoughts on top of her present stress.

I was awake for once, and abnormally sober. Maybe it had been too long since I drank my tea. That would explain the painful throbbing in my chest that came with every beat of my heart. I was hoping Marisa would come back soon so I could ask her for some. I couldn't handle this pain, and I just wanted to sleep. I could see one of the shadows in the corner of my eye, and felt a tiny spark of fear in my belly.

My bedroom door opened, and I slowly turned my head to see who was here. I was rather surprised to see Secondus striding towards me with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. That was how everyone looked at me. They wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong for my benefit, but the pity was still just beneath the surface.

He sat in my bedside chair, and took my hand. I had the sudden urge to sit up straight. This prone position made me feel vulnerable. I was considering trying it, but quickly gave up on the idea. There was no way I could do so on my own anymore. Marisa even had to feed me these days.

"How do you feel today, Xanthe?" Secondus asked kindly. His voice was low, like he feared that if he was too loud, I would fall apart.

"Better than most days," I lied. My voice was croaky and weak, and my chest burned when I spoke.

"Good, very good," he responded. He squeezed my hand gently. "I come with good news for you."

My heart swelled with hope for a moment before I quickly deflated it. The only good news I wanted was that Tristan had come to whisk me away with him, but I knew that Secondus could not be here to tell me that. If Fulcinia kept her promise, then he would not even know of my affair. So whatever he had to say was just news to me, not "good" news.

"His Holiness has sent for Marius, Fulcinia, and Alecto," he said giddily. "Arthur and the knights are retrieving them from the manse to bring them to a ship. They are coming home for you!"

I felt like the world was closing in on me. Tristan was going back to the house, and I would not be there. If he had never received my letter, his reaction would be unpredictable. And even if he had, Marius might do something rash. He could get away with it because of the pope's support. If he hurt him, I would kill him. It didn't matter how sick I was, I would find the strength. If he so much as touched Tristan, I would cut his fat head off.

My face must not have showed what Secondus expected because he looked worried. "Isn't that exciting?" he asked, almost like he was nervous.

I quickly rearranged my expression into solemnity. "Alecto will not be happy to see me," I said quietly, hoping he would fall for my ruse. "I lost our child."

Secondus looked shocked. "My nephew loves you!" he exclaimed. "Xanthe…things like this happen all the time. It is God's will. You cannot be blamed for such a horrible tragedy."

I nodded, and stared at the canopy of the bed hovering over me. Thankfully, Secondus understood that I no longer wanted to talk, and left me to my thoughts.

I wondered if Alecto would really be mad at me for the loss of what he believed to be his son. The thought upset me. I didn't love Alecto like a wife should love her husband, but I cared about him enough that it made me sad to think of him being mad at me. I'd never really thought about what Alecto might say if he found out. I knew that he'd heard by now, but I never pondered over his reaction.

Marisa came then with the cup of tea already in her hands. She helped lift me up, and held the cup to my lips so I could drink it. It was boiling hot and scalded my throat, but I drank it all just for the promise of relieving the throbbing in my chest.

"What did Secondus want?" she inquired as she adjusted my pillows so I could be more comfortable.

"Marius, Fulcinia, and Alecto are making their way to Rome," I replied, watching her to gauge her reaction. "The knights are escorting them."

Her eyes grew wide. "You don't think…would Tristan-"

"No," I said firmly, not even allowing her to finish what I knew she would say. "He will stay in Briton, like I asked." I didn't confide in her about my fears that he had not received my letter. Voicing them would make them feel more substantial.

She nodded slowly, and we sat silently next to each other while the tea's effects started to seep into me fully. I was beginning to feel drowsy, but for once was clinging onto consciousness. Marisa looked worried, and I knew if we sat here like thing long enough, she would tell me what was bothering her. I had not been a good friend to her lately, and was hoping she would give me an opportunity to make some of that up to her.

"If they are leaving the estate," she began slowly, "then what will happen to the serfs?"

I knew why she was asking right away. Ganis was still in Briton, tending to Marius's fields. If the family felt, then the serfs would be doomed without adequate protection or ability to receive foods. I had not thought of this, and now felt guilty for worrying over whether or not Alecto would be angry with me when my best friend's husband might be in danger.

"Oh, Marisa," I said quietly, shifting as far as I could in order to take her hand. "I am sure Ganis will be fine. He is a resourceful man, not to mention courageous. He will be fine, I am sure of it."

She did not look entirely convinced, so I decided to breach a subject we'd both been dancing around for weeks. I feared that if I didn't tell her now, then I would never get the chance.

"Marisa," I said. She turned her head towards me. "When I die-"

"Do not speak of such things!" she hissed, clutching my hand so tight that it hurt. "You will not die!"

"Stop that," I said, voice devoid of any hints of joking or playfulness. "We both know I am well on my way, so you will listen to me now and not interrupt. Is that clear?"

I had a feeling it was the shock of hearing my demand rather than actual agreement that made her nod her head and remain quiet.

"When I die, I want you to return to Briton with Lelia," I told her. "I have money saved separately from what Alecto knows I have. It is not much, but at least no one will realize it's gone. It is beneath the bookcase. Take it, and get on a ship. Go back, and be with Ganis. Raise your daughter with both parents, like a real family should. You and I were not given that chance. Lelia will not suffer the same fate as long as I can help it."

She was crying now, but I didn't feel bad for saying it. I knew that it was for her own good.

"Xanthe, I cannot do that," she whispered. I could feel her hands shaking around mine. "I do not want to take your money."

"I won't need it in my grave, now will I?" I responded, ignoring the way she flinched. "Think of it as the pay you should have been receiving this whole time."

"Why are you doing this?"

That question surprised me. The way she voiced it made it sound like I was punishing her rather than helping her. Her eyes were indecipherable, so I decided to just answer as truthfully as I could.

"Love should not be wasted, especially the true, pure kind you share with Ganis. I was not given the opportunity to spend much time with the man I love, but I know that if someone gave me a chance like I am giving you, I would jump on it. This is my final wish, and I ask that you respect that. You just have to promise me one thing."

"Anything!"

"Never let him go," I whispered, voice taught with suppressed emotion. "Never ever let anything get between you. If you ever find yourself feeling like things cannot be fixed between the two of you, remember how you felt when you married him. There are things in this world worth fighting for, and love is the greatest one."

"I promise," she replied quietly.

I nodded with satisfaction, glad to finally have said what I needed to say to her. I felt light, like a weight had been lifted. That may have been the herbs in the tea, however.

Marisa began to sob quietly, but before I could ask her what was wrong, she was saying, "I love you, you know that right? I love you like the sister I never had."

I smiled at her, the first real one I'd been able to dredge up in a very long time. "I love you as well, Marisa, truly. You are the greatest friend I could have asked for."

Her sobs got louder, and more hysterical. "I do not want you to die, Xanthe," she wailed. "I don't want you to die!"

I tugged her towards me by the hand she was clutching, and she positioned herself so that she was lying next to me, was tucked under my arm like a child being comforted by their mother. I shushed her, and tried to calm her down, all the while hiding the fact that I was crying as well.

Like a lost dream, I recalled a memory of standing at my balcony in my bedroom at the Honorius estate, before I was in love with Tristan. I was thinking about jumping. I was going to give up, and just leave this world behind. Back then, I thought no one would miss me, that I would just be brushed under the rug like the corpse of a spider.

Now that I had people that would care when I was buried, things were different. For the first time, I realized something that was nagging at the back of my mind this entire time: I didn't want to die either.

**I just keep throwing the sadness on you guys like buckets of water, don't I? Sorry. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. :) There's a picture of Daria going up on the tumblr, if you care to see. And I've already completely finished the next chapter! All I have to do is edit, so that's about a five day thing, but I think I might leave this up a week before I add the next one, just to see how you guys like this. :)  
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**There's only one more chapter now. It's so weird. I never thought this story would get as much attention as it did. It did even better than "Your Tears Are Empty" did. Those two stories have really given me the opportunity to grow as a writer. If you read the first chapters of YTAE or my old oneshots, you can really tell the difference. :P You guys are the ones I have to thank for that. You never gave up on me even when it must have looked like I wasn't going to finish this, and you were always there with constructive criticism to help me improve.**

**So seriously, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help and devotion to this story. It means the world to me.**


	21. Meet Me at the Gates

__**Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! And to those of you who don't...Happy Sunday. :) As a present to my readers, I bring you the conclusion to my third full length fanfic! :D I know that it won't please all of you, but I hope at least some of you like it. I want to thank those of you who wished me a happy birthday in your reviews for the last chapter! I didn't have time to actually respond to the messages because of family stuff for the holidays, but I really appreciate it!  
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**I would like to split the dedication of this story for two people, both faithful reviewers.**

**Firstly, to winchesterxgirl. You helped me out when I thought I had nowhere to turn, and I cannot even put into words how appreciative I am to you for talking me through stuff. I couldn't think of any substantial way to thank you, so I decided a fic dedicated to you would be as good as I could get. :) So yeah...thank you, and I hope you enjoy this last update!**

**Secondly to brandibuckeye. You've been reviewing every chapter of my fics since the first update for "Your Tears Are Empty". Seriously, you must be my most loyal reviewer. I lost plenty of readers during my long absences, but you were always there and were often the first one to review. So thank you so much for that. :D**

**And now, to the final chapter!**

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><p><em><strong>"I think the easiest way to lose something is to want it too badly."-J.D., <strong>__**Scrubs**_

_"Breathe in softly. Take my hand. We're saying goodbye, but this is not the end. You're body's sinking. Oh, my soul. I'll see you on the other side when it is my turn. The sky will open up. I've waited so long to feel your touch. So meet me at the gates, and wash these tears away. Wash these tears away."-blessthefall_

Almost a year ago, when I was about to start on a journey I did not yet know about, I thought about freedom. It was not so long ago, but now the idea of being free means something so much different. Freedom is not simply the absence of the confines of an enemy. It is the ability to rise above that, and to live without fear of that enemy conquering you. Freedom is acknowledging that you are a captive, but still fighting it every step of the way. That is why the caged bird sings: to keep themselves free even when they are trapped.

These are the sort of things I find myself pondering most of the time. It seems like now that I am so close to dying, it has become extremely important that I understand everything. I want to be as knowledgeable about the ways of the world as I possibly can. In some strange way, I hope it will prepare me more for whatever afterlife awaits me.

I also think about my parents often. I never met them, yet our stories have become so similar. Both my mother and I were married women that fell in love with men we should not have. We both became pregnant with children by those men, and we lost those children, though in different ways. I wonder if she ever thought about me in the years she spent alive before the illness took her. Did she ever wish she still had me? Did she love me even though she never knew me? I like to think so. I love my baby, and I never even held him, so I think she would have loved me. One thing is for sure: she was much stronger than me. She managed to go ten years without my father and without her child. I could not even last a year. I wish strength was an inheritable trait, or was somehow contagious.

The midwife's accusations haunt me as well. She used to tell me all the time that I was a product of sin, and therefore, would be punished by God for my mother's discrepancies. Was she right? Was I dying right now because of my mother's unfaithfulness? Maybe the children always carried the sins of their parents. Perhaps that was why my son was not allowed his first breath. He was a product of adultery too. The thought made my heartache intensify, and I felt the need to apologize to anybody who would listen.

By the time Alecto arrived with his parents, I had taken a turn for the worst. I could no longer keep food down, and the lack of sustenance had already taken its toll on me. I was thin and frail, and I could barely stay awake. Still, I felt weirdly alert most of the time, even right before I slept. Perhaps it was my last bit of vitality running its course.

Fulcinia and Alecto came to see me as fast as they could after they arrived in Rome, and Fulcinia was unable to contain her gasp of shock at my appearance. Alecto, however, looked like someone had punched him in the gut. He sat on the edge of my bed, and clasped his hand in mine, lifting it to his lips to kiss it.

"Xanthe," he whispered. Just that lone word showed me what he was feeling, the pain, the regret, the sympathy, and the sorrow.

I opened my mouth to say something, though I did not know what, but instead, a sob broke out. It sounded wheezy, due to the constant tightness in my chest.

"I am sorry, Alecto," I gasped. "I am sorry I lost the baby."

He shook his head, and pressed my hand to his cheek. "No, that was not your fault. That was no one's fault. Do not worry about that now. You need to keep your strength."

His voice was much deeper than I remembered. I found myself realizing how much different he looked. His hair was a little longer, and his face had thinned out. He was even taller too. I left behind a boy, and now a man was delivered to me. I could see it in his eyes, the lack of innocence. What had happened while I was gone that had changed him so?

I looked at Fulcinia sitting in the chair at my bedside, and saw the tears in her eyes. She was clutching a rosary in her hands and holding it close to her heart. She looked withered and broken down. Something was different, and they were keeping it from me.

"Did something happen during your travels?" I asked curiously, having to take staggering breaths between my words. Fulcinia balked, giving away the answer I already expected. "What is it?"

Alecto's eyes were filled with tears. "My father is dead."

My eyes bulged, and my thoughts went immediately to Tristan. "How?"

"He was holding a knife to a child's throat," Fulcinia whispered. "He wanted to kill him for being a pagan. A Woad woman shot him in the chest to save the boy."

I tried not to look relieved, though I was. I half-expected her to say Tristan stabbed him, and had been caught and put to death. At the same time, I was rather glad such an evil man was gone from this world. If he was attempting to kill a child, then surely he deserved what he got. Still, I couldn't be so callous as to point that out.

"I am so sorry," I said, squeezing Alecto's hand weakly. "It saddens me to hear."

I looked at Fulcinia, and I knew that she saw in my eyes that I was not sad at all, at least not for Marius's passing. Her eyes conveyed nothing. I wondered if she really was sorrowful about her husband's passing, or if it was another carefully constructed facade.

They spent the rest of the day with me, asking about my stay so far. I had nothing to say that wouldn't bring the somber mood back, so they spoke instead of their travels. When Arthur arrived at the house, Marius tried to stay on his lands, but Arthur forced him to go. The half-Briton wouldn't leave the serfs behind to die, so they were forced to travel slow towards Hadrian's Wall. A group of barbarians called the Saxons were on their tale, claiming all the land that Rome was leaving. Apparently they killed everything in their path, so they were racing death itself. Arthur kept them moving through the night sometimes just so they could keep their head start. During that time, Marius was killed, but that part of their story was quickly glossed over.

They came to a lake at one point, frozen and vast. They could not cross over it quickly enough, so Arthur sent ahead the serfs and Alecto and Fulcinia, and stayed behind with the knights and the Woad woman who'd shot Marius to fight the Saxons on the lake. They traveled alone for a night, but the knights met back up with them before they reached the Wall. Only this time, they were one short.

I felt the beginnings of panic blooming in my chest. One of the knights died in the skirmish. Tristan could have died, and I wouldn't even know.

Fulcinia must have noticed my agonized expression because she said, "Dagonet, was his name. He was a good healer, and…he had a kind heart."

I felt calmer now that I knew it was not Tristan, but still mourned the loss of Dagonet silently. He _did _have a kind heart, one of the kindest I'd ever met in my life. From the minimal amount of conversation we'd shared, I could tell that he did not really want to take lives, though he must have been good at it. He was a healer. He wanted to help people, not hurt them. I could tell it drained him, the constant fighting. I hoped he was at peace now.

Once they got to the Wall, the knights received their discharge papers, but that night, the Saxons arrived and set up camp outside the Wall. Arthur knew he had to fight to defend his people, but the other knights decided to leave while they could. They would escort Fulcinia and Alecto to the coast, and then go off to lead their own lives.

They were not far from the Wall when they all decided to go back and help Arthur. They left the old guards from the manse to lead the carriage to the ships, and went back to fight. They didn't stay behind to hear the outcome of the battle.

"I am sorry you had to go through all of that," I told them earnestly.

"I should be the sorry one," Alecto mumbled. "What kind of husband am I, letting you go through all of this alone in a place you are unfamiliar with? I should have come with you. I knew it when you were leaving. I should have."

"It's fine, Alecto," I soothed him. "Secondus says that it was God's will for this to befall us. If that is true, then it would have happened whether you were with me or not."

"I should have been with you though," he murmured quietly.

"You are here now, that is all that matters," I said, making sure my tone conveyed finality. It must have, because he let it go.

Fulcinia cleared her throat pointedly. "Alecto, why don't you go visit with your uncle for a little while? I must discuss some things with Xanthe."

He looked appalled at the idea. "Why do I have to leave? She is my wife."

"It is something I want to share, from one woman to another," she responded calmly. "Please."

It was more of a demand, and Alecto took notice of that. He leaned over to kiss my cheek. "I shall be back in twenty minutes. Say what you must."

He walked out, but Fulcinia waited until the sound of his footsteps faded before she spoke. "I am truly sorry you lost your child," she said. "It is a tragedy that I would not wish on even my most hated enemies."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. Even talking about it hurt. "I am guessing that is not all you wanted to stay, as Alecto could have been here for that."

She shook her head. "It is not. I want to tell you of your knight." My interest was captured completely, and I was now hanging on her every word. "He was fine. He hinted to me that he received your letter, and he asked if I knew how you were. I told him you were ill, but nothing too serious. He seemed rather annoyed with that, so I know I made the right decision not telling him the truth in the matter."

I nodded in agreement. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," she responded.

"Is that all?"

She shook her head again. "I was wondering…if you had any requests. Is there anything I can have done to make this situation easier?"

It wasn't hard to decipher that. She was asking if she could fulfill any of my final wishes. I wanted to laugh out loud at the craziness of this situation, but only frowned outwardly. Everyone had been trying so hard to skirt around the fact that I was dying, but Fulcinia came out and put everything on the table for display. I had to admit, it was refreshing. I was sick of everyone ignoring the elephant in the room.

"There is one thing…but I would rather settle that with Alecto, if you don't mind."

She dipped her in acquiescence. "Very well. You should sleep now though. I can tell you are exhausted."

I made a sound of agreement, knowing that arguing wouldn't solve anything. She pulled my blankets up further over my shoulders, and whispered something in Latin that sounded suspiciously like a prayer before she left me to sleep.

/\/\/\/\/\

My eyes opened slowly, and I stared at the draping canopy of the bed over my head. It was the first dreamless sleep I'd had since before I met Tristan, and it was also the most soothing. I felt relaxed and calm. I was focused for the first time since I became ill.

I noticed a light from my bedside for the first time, and turned my head to locate the source. A lantern was lit on the nightstand, and Alecto sat in the armchair, reading a book. He glanced up at me, and did a double take once he realized I was awake. My expression must have alarmed him because he set the book aside immediately, and leaned forward to look me over critically.

"Xanthe, what is wrong? Where does it hurt? What do I do? Should I get a healer?"

"No," I said, my voice just a raspy whisper. "Stay. Stay here, please. I don't want to be alone."

He hesitated, but then nodded. Without preamble, he sat down next to me in the bed with his back resting against the headboard, and lifted me up just to lay me back down against him. I could feel his heart beat against my back, and only when his arms wrapped around me did I realize just how thin I'd become. I would have blown away like a sheaf of parchment if a strong wind blew. He kissed my head and my shoulders, and I allowed him to. He may have thought he was comforting me, but I had a feeling these gestures were doing more to comfort ease him than me.

I thought about how lost he used to be when we first met. He used to blush whenever I simply glanced at him, and his first muttered sentence to me was to question why my eyes changed color. So much change had taken place since I first became betrothed to him. I would be fooling myself if I thought I was the sole cause for his transformation, but I did hope that I may have helped him in some ways. It would be the only real good I ever did during my short life. Thinking I left my mark somewhere, even in such a little way, made me feel more content.

It took almost all of my remaining energy to turn around in Alecto's arms so that I could see his face in the lantern light. He was cradling me like he would a baby in this position, and I had a sudden hope that he would remarry so that he could have babies of his own. He would make such a good father.

"Were you sleeping in here?" I asked. The feebleness of my own voice surprised me.

He stroked my cheek gently. "Of course. I will not leave you alone now that I am here," he replied as if it were an obvious answer. There was a short pause, in which he stared at me like he was weighing something out in his mind. "What did you talk to my mother about?"

"She wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help make this easier for me, and I told her that there was only one thing but that I would entrust that to you."

He seemed surprised, but nodded eagerly. "Tell me. I'll do anything."

"When this is all over, make sure that my servant, Marisa, and her daughter make it back to Briton. Her husband is there, and she misses him so. I would not want her to stay here after I'm gone."

His face turned to stone, but he nodded. "As you wish."

"Thank you."

The silence stretched between us, and I noticed the shadows beginning to bleed into the walls like a fisherman's lure. This room was the ocean, and I was the fish. Instead of turning away from them this time, I watched them. They never took any real shape, they just morphed, ebbed and flowed like the waves in the ocean. Alecto didn't see them. No one ever did. That was how I knew they were here for me.

This time I wasn't afraid of them. I knew why they were here. I also knew my time was up. I may not be completely ready, but there was no more fear. This was my lot in life, and I was going to accept it.

Because looking back on the twenty winters I'd lived, my life was not so terrible after all. I never knew my parents, but I never really yearned to like some orphans might have. I was a slave, but I was never abused like most were. I was forced to marry a man I didn't love, but he was the kindest man I'd ever known. And I experienced the love of a lifetime, the kind some spend their entire lives searching and hoping for. I was able to give my heart to Tristan truly and completely and have his in return. We didn't get a lot of time together in this life, but perhaps in the next one we would finally be able to be together like we could have been if I had not been sent to Rome.

"Xanthe?" Alecto said quietly. I looked at him, and realized his eyes were filled with tears that were threatening to spill over at any second. When he had my attention, he began to ramble. "I know that you did not want to get married to me. I didn't want to marry you either, at first, but…you changed my mind. I always felt so powerless before you. You made me feel like…like what I did mattered. And I am so _sorry_ I was not here for you when you needed me most. I'm sorry I let you leave without me. I'm sorry this is happening to you."

"Oh, Alecto," I whispered, reaching up with a violently shaking hand to wipe away his tears. "Please do not blame yourself."

He pressed his cheek against my hand, and shut his eyes. For the first time, I realized just how much pain my state was putting him through. He'd done a good job of hiding it when his mother was here, but now he was letting me see that he was suffering. Marius died, and now I was going to. His father and his wife, all within the same month. I found solace in the knowledge that he was here with family who would help him through this crisis.

He opened his eyes, sniffed, looked away from me, and then smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "I always loved you. I know you never felt the same way, but I still did…do."

The stark admission surprised me, and all I could do for several moments was blink at him. I'd heard, of course, from his mother and uncle, that he loved me, but I always thought they were just being hopeful that the marriage would work. To hear it from him floored me. I had no response. I vowed a long time ago to love one man for the rest of my life, and I kept that promise. Tristan had every shred of my heart.

"It is okay," he said, finally looking at me. "I know."

And he did. He knew that I cared about him, just not in the same way, and he knew that I could never voice that to him for fear of hurting him. He may not know the reason I couldn't return his feelings, but he accepted it regardless. Now I realized just how deep the bond between Alecto and I ran. It was not our marriage vows that held us together. It was this. That was when I knew that I would have, without a doubt, fallen in love with Alecto if the knights never came to escort Secondus to our wedding. The thought of how different my life would have been was nagging at the back of my mind, but I pushed it away. I would rather live every one of my lifetimes with this painful ending than have an average one in which I did not know Tristan.

The shadows grew larger and came closer, and I could see their arms reaching for me. I smiled at Alecto, and felt the skin of my lips crack open from how dry they were.

"Would you hand me one of the white flowers in the vase next to the bed?" I asked him.

He reached over without a word, and procured one which he handed to me. I requested a vase of gardenias for my bedside, and Daria had to comply due to the healers' order that I should be granted any request in order to make me comfortable. The smell made me more relaxed, even now. I inhaled as deeply as I could, which was not very much. The soft petals caressed my nose, and the scent brought back memories of Tristan that flashed like a bolt of lightning in the backs of my eyelids.

I flicked my eyes to Alecto, and then back to the flower. "These are my favorite," I told him in a whisper.

"Why do you like them?" he asked.

I closed my eyes, and mulled over my answer for a few moments before answering him.

"They remind of the times when I was free."

I held onto the flower with both hands, and leaned my head against Alecto's shoulder. I suddenly felt very drained. The oddest part was that my chest pains were lessening. In fact, every ache in my body was lessening. Breathing was becoming easier, and my head felt less heavy. For one glorious second, I was bathed in euphoria, and then my heart gave its final beat and I breathed my final breath.

And something in my heart told me that this wasn't really the end.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Time for bed," Marisa told her daughter with a smile.

"But I'm not tired yet, mama!" the six year old whined, pouting in the direction of her father.

The man smiled at his wife over the head of their newborn son, Verus, and said, "Listen to your mother, Lelia."

"If you go without a fuss, I will tell you a story," Marisa compromised.

She knew she had struck a deal when Lelia's eyes lit up, and she ran to her bedroom like there was fire at her heels. Ganis and Marisa chuckled at their daughter's antics, and Marisa leaned over to plant a kiss on the top of her son's head. He gurgled, and clapped his hands happily.

"My strong little prince," she cooed to him, making him giggle. "Strong like your papa."

"And one day, he will be a warrior like me too," Ganis said with a grin.

Marisa shot a glare at her husband. "By no means will my baby boy be involved in fighting of any sort. He is much too fragile."

"Now, yes," he agreed. "But when he is thirteen winters, I will teach him how to fight."

"You will do no such thing," she growled. "I see the wounds you come back with after a battle, Ganis. I appreciate Arthur giving you such a high position in the military for your service at Badon Hill because it allowed us to purchase this house, but I will never see my son with his head cut open like yours was the last time you came home. That is nonnegotiable.."

Ganis just laughed, and shook his head. "We shall discuss this later. For now, you owe our girl a story."

Marisa just sighed, and walked back to Lelia and Verus's room. Her daughter was already in bed with the covers pulled up over her legs. She beamed happily when she caught sight of her mother, and moved over to make room for her on the small bed. Marisa sat down, and then picked up a comb from the nightstand to run it through the tangles in Lelia's curly hair.

"So which story do you want to hear tonight?" Marisa asked.

"I wanna hear one about a princess!" she exclaimed happily.

Marisa smiled softly at the memory of an old nickname for someone she'd once known. Her daughter would not see that the gesture was not a happy one. It was full of remaining sadness, and longing for a friend that had long since passed away.

"Alright," Marisa said. "A very long time ago, an evil king ruled over his land, doing whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted. His wife, the queen, was far too intimidated by her husband to put a stop to it, and their son, the prince, never knew any better than what his father taught him. One day, the queen bought a slave to work in their castle. She was the most beautiful woman to ever roam the land, with hair like rays of sunshine and eyes that could change from the color of tree bark to the same shade as fresh grass. She was also kind, intelligent, and much, much stronger than even she knew.

"When the king saw this slave for the first time, he coveted her beauty. He wanted her to be his wife instead of the queen, but knew that was not possible. Instead, he decided to release her from the chains of servitude in order for her to marry the prince. With no other choice, the beautiful slave agreed to become the princess.

"The king's brother wished to see his nephew married, so he traveled from a far away land to the palace with seven knights to guard him. These seven were the most respected, feared, and deadly warriors in any corner of the world. They were good fighters, but they also had tremendously large hearts. They too were slaves, for they were forced to be knights even though they did not wish to. They were invited to stay in the palace by the king when they arrived, and they accepted in order to see the king's brother back to his home once the wedding was over.

"One of the knights, the quietest and most handsome, could not keep his eyes off the princess. He thought her the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on, and he too wanted her to himself. That night, he met with her in the gardens behind the palace, and they spoke for the first time. That night, they both fell in love.

"To keep their affair a secret, they rarely spoke in public. Instead, they would meet during the night in the garden where no one could find them. Every day they fell even more in love with each other, and every day the wedding drew closer. They knew that if the king caught them, he would have them both killed for their betrayal to his kingdom, so the princess had no choice but to marry the prince.

"After her wedding, the princess and her knight met in their hideaway, and concocted a plan. When the knight was finally free of his binds to the military, they would run away together, to his homeland. The princess agreed, though they would have to wait an entire year for him to be finished with his service. They vowed to wait for one another, and when he left to bring the king's brother home, they were both very sad.

"Nearly halfway through the time they would have to wait, the king discovered the princess's secret, and became furious. He sent her away, to a hidden castle where her knight could never find her. The princess was so heart broken over losing her knight, that she became very sick. The knight, meanwhile, did not know that his princess was sent away or that she was ill. He was fighting his final battle against a barbarian enemy, after which he would be free from his enslavement. He was so engrossed in thoughts of his love that one of the brutes got in a lucky shot, and his life was ended with one stroke of a sword. So entwined were his and the princess's hearts that hers stopped beating when his did."

Lelia sighed at the end of the story, and scooted down in bed until her head was on the pillow. Marisa set the comb back down, and pulled the blanket up over her little shoulders.

"Mama, that's a sad story," she pointed out with a frown. "It did not even have a happy ending."

"Oh, but it does, little one," Marisa corrected. "They are together forever now, in a setting where there is no sadness or pain or fear."

"Where is that?"

Marisa smiled, and leaned in like it was a secret. "Their hideaway, in the garden. A secret place where only they can go."

Lelia closed her eyes sleepily and mumbled, "I'm glad the princess is happy."

"Me as well," Marisa replied quietly.

She looked down, and smiled when she noticed that Lelia was already asleep. She carefully got out of bed, and walked back to the main room where Ganis was sitting with Verus in his arms. He smiled he saw her.

"You left a few parts out," he told her.

Marisa shrugged slightly. "I do not think a child should know what a stillborn is."

He nodded once in agreement, and she went to sit by his side. He put an arm around her waist to have her closer to him, and they both stared down at their sleeping son for a few minutes in silence.

"You really miss her, don't you?" Ganis asked.

Marisa nodded, immediately knowing who he was talking about. "Every day."

"Do you…do you really think she has found Tristan in the afterlife?"

Marisa smiled, and a memory came unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Arthur had allowed her and Ganis to choose the plot of land on which their house would be built, so they walked around the lands on the outskirts of the town to see which one they would choose. While on that stroll, she noticed two gardenias growing out of the ground even though there were no other plants for miles around. Their stems were intertwined and tangled together, and they swayed slightly in the wind so it looked like they were dancing. It was a sign, she knew. Xanthe wanted her to know that she was okay, that she was finally at peace with him. Marisa chose to have the house built there.

"I have no doubts about it, Ganis," she answered. "No doubts at all."

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is. I know a lot of you wanted them to find each other instead of dying, but I had the ending planned before I knew the beginning. To me, this isn't a sad ending. :P Because they are together...just not in the way you might have expected.<strong>

**By the way, Xanthe's illness is a real disease. Takotsubo cardiomyopathy** **(or "broken heart syndrome") is when severe emotional trauma causes weakening of the heart muscle and induces heart failure. I know that it's not an accurate portrayal of what the disease may do to a person, but I tried my best to make it realistic.**

**There will be an update on my profile that is pretty important, so you guys should read it after you're done this!**


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